


Cinderella - Breddy AU

by CommaAngel



Category: Twosetviolin
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Brett ends up protecting Eddy anyway, Brett is soft and Eddy is protective, F/M, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Male Cinderella, Platonic to romance, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:35:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 28,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25389877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CommaAngel/pseuds/CommaAngel
Summary: Since his mother's death, Brett Yang's life has been controlled by his stepfather and his daughters. Everything changed when, for one night, he escaped the house that made him a prisoner. Meeting Prince Chen opened the door to a free life, full of possibilities, promises... and dangers.
Relationships: Eddy Chen/Brett Yang
Comments: 81
Kudos: 150





	1. Invitation

About a week ago, Brett Yang's family had received an invitation by mail.

At first, this wasn't big news. Brett's stepsisters, Annabel and Christina, were invited to all the parties and balls in the city. Their father, Mr Yang Lin, reserved an hour every afternoon just to read all the notes asking for his presence in this meeting or in that dinner.

However, once it became clear who sent that specific message, all the others were instantly forgotten.

After all, it wasn't every day that a prince held a ball to meet his future wife.

All youth in the kingdom should go, giving the prince, as the invitation said, 'a chance to meet his people after his long-awaited return home.'

Despite such, no one had thought about the possibility of Brett going, not even him. For starters, he was rarely allowed to leave the house. It was one of the things that unnerved his stepfather the most. That, and when he slept in and breakfast was late. Besides, Brett was just a mere servant. After his mother passed away, he didn't hold any more power in that house.

If it wasn't for Hillary's life goal to make Brett's reality more bearable, he would spend the ball night locked up in his small attic bedroom, as usual.

Hillary was his neighbour. More importantly, she was a longtime friend of his, and the only one Mr Lin wasn't able to repel after Mrs Yang's death. She was also one of the few people who knew about his broken bones and multiple bruises, his short-tempered stepfather and dysfunctional stepsisters.

This wasn't the first time she had tried to convince Brett to sneak out and get away from that house. However, it was the first time she was actually able to persuade him into doing it. Maybe it was because the past weeks had been calmer than usual, or because Mr Lin and his daughters would go out too, and no one would notice if he left. Perhaps Brett only accepted because the invitation promised an orchestra and he couldn't resist that.

Regardless of the reason, Hillary did her best to trace a perfect plan. Brett would sneak out after his family left, using the big window that faced Hillary's house. They would use her carriage to get to the palace, and once they were there, it would be easy to avoid anyone in the crowd. They would 'have some fun' (Hillary's words), and meet again at midnight to go home. It was risky, but not impossible.

"You really have to join me on time, if we arrive home after your stepfather..."

"I know," Brett assured for the tenth time. "I'll be there."

"Good. And I also have to borrow something for you to wear."

Brett looked at her, surprised, finding his friend's gaze on his old clothes.

"Wait, what? Why? What's wrong with my clothes?"

Hillary gave him a meaningful look. "They may serve to carry breakfast around your house, but this is a royal ball. I don't want you to be wearing an old suit when you meet your soulmate."

"What? Hillary, that's nonsense."

"Oh, shush! You never know." She winked at him, making Bret blush.

"Are you sure we can really do this?" he asked, expectantly.

"We can, Brett," Hillary smiled.

And Brett felt hopeful as he didn't in a long time, almost not recognizing the jump of his stomach as excitement. The soft colours of Hillary's guest room instantly seemed more vivid, and he felt his face lightening up. Hillary almost laughed at his newfound joy.

They were going to do this.

\---

Having something to look forward to - even if Brett didn't believe in soulmates - made the weeks that preceded the ball seem like months. 

Fortunately, he was able to cover his enthusiasm better than his sisters, that were practically hysterical. Every day, there were strict dance classes and long sessions of etiquette with Mr Long, their preceptor, succeeded by hours of high-pitched discussions about dresses, hats and shoes.

Unexpectedly, even Mr Lin was counting the days to the ball. Brett could see the greed in his eyes every time he criticized Annabell or Christina for their posture, manners or their too-loud voice. Marrying one of his girls to the second prince would add to his figure the status and wealth he craved so badly, and he would pursue this chance to the end.


	2. Cinderella

"Brett!" Sarah called from the kitchen door. "Miss Lin's breakfast is ready!"

"Comin'!"

Brett flew down the stairs. Sarah, the scullery maid, was already waiting for him. The tray on her hands held a painted porcelain teapot and its matching teacups, steaming with the hot tea inside. Sarah's foot was anxiously tapping the floor, and, when she saw Brett, she seemed ready to give him the reprimand of his life.

The boy couldn't judge her. With the ball just a few days away, all the staff had dark circles under their eyes and fear behind every move. The sir of the house wasn't being easy on them, nor were the ladies. A too-late cup of tea was enough to make Annabell snap and yell at everyone. Christina seemed to always have a dismissal order behind her back. The butler jumped every time Mr Lin passed near him, and the housemaids were on tears at the end of every day.

Brett took the tray to his stepsisters' living room as fast as possible. They were waiting for Mr Long, probably half-way through their daily gossip dose about the prince.

"Have you seen him in the newspaper today?" Brett heard Annabell squeaky voice through the half-open door. "It says that he has been in the military. He just returned from the battle at the border to marry! Look at his picture! Isn't he perfect?"

"Calm down, Anna. You can't judge a man by his appearance," Christina interrupted. "Look at his attire instead! You could buy a small homestead, just selling the buttons."

"Shut up, Chris! How can you only care about the money? You have to admit that he is lovely. He is Prince Chen-Charming!"

Brett could imagine the face Christina must have made after that.

"That's a terrible, terrible name, Anna," she replied.

"No, it-"

Annabell was cut short by Brett's gentle knock on the door.

"Miss Christina," he announced. "Your tea."

"Took you long enough, Brett." Her voice was filled with ice, replacing the malicious tone she used with her sister.

The older sister looked as distant as always. Stiffly standing near the fireplace in her dark green dress and pearls trinkets, her presence made Brett want to be miles away. Anna, on the other hand, was in one of her puffy pink dresses, sprawled on an armchair on a way that would make her father red with embarrassment. Brett left the living room with a bow after Christina dismissed him.

He headed upstairs to Mr Lin's rooms, where his services were awaited. He quickly opened the windows and brought breakfast. Then, with a deep breath, Brett prepared to face the man he feared and to whom he owed the most.

At last, the ball day arrived. Brett was awake before the sun even rose to prepare everything. The following hours were a blur. Light meals were requested at strange hours. New clothes, with fluttering fabric and heavy jewellery, were passing between the hands of the sisters and the ladies' maids. On top of that, Brett was really trying to avoid his stepfather, that was barking orders to everyone, exceptionally imponent in his expensive suit.

Annabell was biting her nails to the quick. Around midday, she had a nervous breakdown because her shoes didn't fit, and Brett had to run through all her wardrobe to find a pair that satisfied her. Christina, on the other hand, spent the day confidently ordering the staff, particularly Brett, around, frighteningly resembling her father in her tight blue dress and polished pearls around her neck and wrists. Not that they looked alike, but they held the same disapproving stare that made Brett feel small and bare.

Around sunset, the carriage was ready. The three Lins left, leaving an exhausted staff team behind. For them, it was time for dinner and sleep. For Brett, the night had just begun.


	3. Friend

Brett had never felt so anxious and excited in his entire life.

He managed to escape the kitchen, full of the exhausted and hungry staff, excusing himself with a headache. No one doubted it. The Yang Lin family had been a handful in the past few weeks.

Brett quickly jumped through the big window of the guest room and crossed the narrow flowered path that separated his house from Hillary's. There, the first surprise of the night awaited. Hillary was next to her carriage, as planed. Next to her stood a tall figure, carrying a violin case on his back. When he turned to face him, the light leaking from the open door of the house illuminated a familiar smile.

"Ray?" Brett called, stunned.

"Bretty! It's so good to see you!" The man approached him with a big grin on his face, giving him a careful hug, clearly delighted.

Brett, however, felt as if a horse just ran him over. He was thrilled to see Ray again, sure, but his presence didn't bring back only good memories.

Brett had known him for a long time. Ray was just 11 when he first came to Mount Square, 16 for a violin lesson with Hillary. She and Mrs Yang were close friends, and Brett met Ray almost every time they visited. They would spend hours on end in the cosy rooms and carpeted corridors of Hillary's home, especially in the music room, where Ray tried to teach Brett how to play the violin (tried is the keyword).

Everything changed when Brett turned 13. As his mother grew sicker, Hillary's visits became more serious and quiet. After Mrs Yang's funeral, Hillary continued to invite him to her house, but he only returned after a while. The rooms felt empty without his mother. Brett eventually was able to surpass that contrast, or at least ignore it. By that time, Hillary started to give him authentic violin lessons, and Brett spent almost every day with Ray.

Then, Brett started to show up less. When he came, it was possible to see some stiffness in his steps or black marks on his arms. Brett would shrug Ray's questions away, or tell a story about an uncontrolled donkey in the market, a fall from the stairs, walking in his sleep. His friend bought it for some time, until the day he hugged Brett, and he screamed from the pain. It was his first broken rib.

That day, 17-year-old Ray entered Brett's house, furious, and confronted Mr Lin, demanding to know what was going on. That day, guards looked away, bribed to forget, and Brett didn't have a violin lesson for a long time. He was only allowed to return to Hillary's house months later. By then, Ray had moved to the south, where he had found a job as a soloist. Brett never saw him again.

Until now.

Tears ran down his face when he hugged Ray back with all the strength he had. His legs felt weak. Ray smelled of honey, as always. The smell brought him back to summer afternoons of 'hide and seek' in the garden, eating sugarplums at Christmas and Brett sitting in front of the white piano, his hands too small to play all the notes Ray told him to. He remembered running around the house hand in hand with his friend, laughing until their bellies hurt and falling asleep in the yellowish couch near the window, earing Ray's soft playing.

"I missed you," Brett muttered, pushing away softly.

"I missed you too." Ray was crying too, Brett noticed. "It's good to see you in one piece," he said with a bittersweet smile. "I'm so sorry I didn't come back sooner... I didn't want to make things worse."

Brett shook his head, dismissing the apology. "It's not your fault. But why returning now?"

"There's going to be a ball around here, I not sure if you know about it..." Ray said jokingly, making a small smile appear in Brett's face. "I'm the part of the orchestra, so I asked Hilary if she could give me a ride. Luckily, she owned me a favour."

Brett turned to Hillary, that was looking tenderly at them. "What favour?" he asked before he could stop himself.

Hillary showed him a package Brett hadn't noticed she was holding. "Remember the clothes you didn't have? Ray may be awful at everything except music, but he does own some nice attire. Now, we need to hurry. I don't want to be late."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To everyone that has been reading "Cinderella", thank you so much! This story has just begun, Eddy is about to arrive, and I hope you'll enjoy reading about how everything will unroll. Hugs! <3


	4. Ball

Brett straightened his stock for the nth time that night. Wearing new clothes for the first time in years was, at least, strange. The black vest underneath his frock coat was tight around his torso, unlike the loose, worn ones he used, and his pants actually fitted him. In some way, that made him feel more confident. Although he was definitely uncomfortable with the bright red of his coat.

Brett followed Hillary through the exterior of the palace. She looked so relaxed wearing her soft burgundy dress. Her steps seemed so effortless, Brett could swear she was sliding instead of walking.

"Straighten your back," she said, just like she used to when Brett was learning the violin. "Look up and smile."

The boy tried, even if his smile felt strained, and his posture looked forced.

They approached the palace doors, where several guards stood, overlooking the growing crowd. After the door sill, Brett could see a large corridor. Pages in golden uniforms carried guest's coats in colourful piles. The walls were covered in old tapestry, illustrating images of armies, drawing swords and spears. The soldiers wore the royal green, proudly facing their enemies.

When they entered the hallway, they could hear the music coming from the ballroom. Listening to it, Brett immediately felt soothed. A smile bloomed on his lips, and he sighed, content.

"There it is," Hillary murmured. "I have to admit, you look quite handsome when you aren't staring at the floor."

Brett gave her a small thanks and entered the ballroom. Some pairs already danced in the centre of the room, surrounded by sumptuous ladies and gentlemen, talking or drinking champagne. The orchestra played at the right, where Brett could see Ray, impossibly gracious in his concertmaster position.  
They wandered around the room, pausing now and then to talk to some of Hillary's acquaintances. Brett felt like he was ten again, and his mom had made him come to a gathering with her. She used to introduce him to so many people that, in the end, they all looked the same. He barely spoke. After being presented, Brett just made his friendliest face and listened to the orchestra.

At some point, the piece ended, and the dance pairs scattered. A moustached butler emerged on the staircase in the back of the room. He cleared his throat, and all the conversations stopped. The room fell in anxious silence, getting Brett out of his trance. 

"Presenting His Royal Highness," the man announced in an affected voice. "Prince Edward of Othela."

With that, the orchestra started playing again. The melody was gentle but fresh, and perhaps a little hopeful. On the top of the staircase, a man appeared. He was wearing a green, gold-embroidered military uniform. The prince came down the stairs, calmly looking at the crowd. As he approached, Brett managed to spot a pair of dark eyes and a smirk. His stepsisters were right. He was gorgeous.

Edward reached the end of the staircase and promptly offered a hand to a girl, pulling her into the dance floor. More pairs swiftly joined them, and soon Brett couldn't see the prince anymore.

"You can go see the orchestra up-close if you want," Hillary suggested. "I'll be around here."

Brett nodded and walked away from her, grabbing a champagne glass in the way. He stood next to the orchestra for some time, appreciating the music. The dance pairs switched, and Brett saw the prince once in a while. One time, he danced with a tall figure in blue Brett recognized as Christina. 

More people entered the room, making it warmer. Brett ended up going up the staircase to find some fresh air, away from the crowd. Upstairs, dispersed groups of people talked in a hushed tone. Brett grabbed one more drink before heading for the far wall of the room, where some balconies were. 

However, before he could get anywhere, a giggling couple ran by, elbowing him. Brett lost his balance, bumping into something - or someone - and his glass went flying, crashing into the perfectly varnished floor, the champagne barely missing him. Brett flinched at the sight of the broken glass.

"Are you ok?" someone said. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I probably researched too much about clothing for this chapter, but I think it was worth it.   
> Eddy is here, finally! It was time for them to meet.  
> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it!


	5. Rooftop

"Are you okay?" someone said.

Brett looked up to see the Prince himself, holding Brett's shoulders, stopping him from falling. He quickly got on his feet again. He felt his cheeks reddening and his heart racing.

"Hum," Brett stammered. "Yes, thank you... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to break the glass. I'll call someone- I'm sorry..." He mentally facepalmed at his stupidity.

"No, don't worry." Edward was almost smiling. 'Probably thinking I came from a mental hospital,' Brett thought.

"Do you need anything?" the Prince asked.

"I'll- I think I'll just go get some air." Brett awkwardly walked back, trying to excuse himself, without success.

"Mind if I join you?" Edward suggested. "I know a good place to unwind."

Brett froze. He didn't want to talk to anyone, especially the Prince, but even the balconies were full, and his offer was the best option. Besides, the other boy didn't look that intimidating up close, so Brett decided to take a chance. He shrugged and nodded.

The Prince gestured towards the flight of stairs next to the employees' door. "This way."

They went up a couple of floors before Edward spoke again.

"So... What's your name?"

"I'm Brett," he replied. "Yang," Brett added, involuntarily remembering the etiquette lessons his sisters had. He always watched them from the corner of the room, ready to attend any request from the girls, trying to ignore the revolting smell of the teacher's cigarettes.

"Yang? I believe I met your sisters a while ago." Eddy made a face. "They were- pleasant?"

Brett almost smiled. 'Pleasant' was a way to describe Annabel and Christina. They were affected and superficial, trained to satisfy and serve. 'Just like me,' he thought. Although his father tutorings never reached him as they did with the girls.

"If Your Highness says so..." Brett smirked. The Prince snickered, gently shaking his head.

"You can call me Eddy," he said before pushing a door to a small, but luxurious, corridor. It wasn't as tall as the rooms downstairs, but there was a soft red carpet covering the floor, and the walls were full of golden details and paintings.

They were in the other part of the castle, Brett realised, where the royal family stayed. Away from the suffocating crowds and curious eyes.

"It has been a while since I came here, but I think I still know the way," Eddy murmured. He turned to another smaller corridor before pushing an almost hidden door next to a big horse painting. "This is a shortcut to the employees' rooms, but it also leads to the rooftop. I came here all the time with my siblings when we were little." He turned to Brett with a grin on his face. "It's good to be back."

"How much time were you away?" Brett asked without thinking. He immediately regretted it. His father was always displeased by his curiosity. Brett's inconvenient questions were often the cause of Mr Yang's violent anger.

However, Eddy didn't seem to mind.

"I left to study in a boarding school when I was 10. But I ran away from that school a month after I arrived, so I guess that year doesn't count."

Brett gave him a shocked look before smiling. "What happened?"

Eddy shrugged. "I guess the teachers were too strict. And the dormitories didn't have good locks on the doors. I was already on my way to the train station when they noticed I was missing."

Brett silently laughed. He decided he liked the Prince, under the layers of seriousness and nobility he had to wear.

"It's here." Eddy pushed a trapdoor on the top of the spiral stairs they climbed. The open wicket revealed a small square of the night sky before Eddy hoisted himself up there.

After he settled, he offered a gloved hand to the shorter man. Brett was pulled to a small part of the rooftop, compressed between three walls, facing the back of the palace. His chin fell: the view was astonishing. The stars stretched to the horizon, particularly bright in the moonless night, and under them, the palace grounds seemed phantasmagoric.

There was a lake that reflected the sky like a mirror, surrounded by well-kept shrubs.

"That's the garden," Eddy pointed. "Mom's responsible for it."

Brett smiled, thinking how odd it was to speak of the Queen in such a casual way.

"Those are the stables," the Prince added, motioning to the big and short building on the edge of the forest that delimitated the palace grounds. "And the maze. I don't know why they insist on maintaining it. There only a handful of people that know it well enough to avoid getting lost."

"Are you one of them?" Brett asked.

Eddy smirked, proudly saying: "Of course. There are very few secrets about this place that I don't know."

Brett averted his gaze from the flowered walls of the labyrinth to look to at the stars. They stayed in silence until Brett spoke again.

"What happened after you ran away?"

Eddy looked at him, surprised by the question. "In the following year, my father transferred me to another school with severer teachers and more robust locks. But it didn't work out the way he wanted. I was out again by the end of the year. This time I stayed at the house of a lovely lady for a couple of months."

"You didn't!" Brett was doubtful whether to be startled or amused. Eddy smiled, but Brett could see the gloomy look he had.

"I did. I would probably be selling coal by now if I hadn't returned. I miss Mrs Smith, but I didn't want to live away from my siblings. When I came back, my mother sent me to my sister's old military school. She said it was time for me to grow up." Eddy made a face.

"That's terrible. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. There are a lot of people who have it worse."

Brett shrugged, still looking up.

"Enough of me. Tell me about you."

Brett turned to find Eddy gaze on him. He felt his cheeks hot again, despite the cold night air.

"There's not much about me. I live in Mount Square, 24, with my stepfather and my stepsisters. That's it."

Eddy shook his head. "I don't believe it for a second. Tell me about something you like."

Brett hesitated for a second before answering. Since Eddy had been so sincere, it should be fine to talk to him. "I like the stars. My mother used to teach me about them." Brett hoped Eddy didn't demand answers about his parents or gave him an 'I'm sorry' speech.

"Yeah? Tell me about them," he asked instead.

So Brett did. He pointed Mars, Venus and the Orion constellation, eternally chasing the daughters of Atlas. He told him the story of Perseus, who cut Medusa's head and carried it in the night sky, and his wife Andromeda, whose constellation was somewhere in the Northern Hemisphere.

Brett wasn't used to talking so much, but the champagne had loosened his tongue. Moreover, Eddy listened so quietly Brett couldn't make himself stop. When he looked at the Prince to check if he wasn't sleeping, he only found his cat-like eyes fixated in the sky.

"That's beautiful, really," Eddy stated, at some point. "But I still think Ursa Major looks like a frying pan."

They both chuckled.

"Maybe it's time for us to go back?" Brett didn't want to be the killjoy, but he should return home before his father noticed he was missing.

Eddy frowned but agreed without more questions.

"Probably. I don't want Queen Chen to find out I've been on the roof instead of 'bonding' with the guests."

"You have been bonding with a guest."

"You're right," Eddy smirked. "But my mother wouldn't want me to marry you. That's the point of all this." Eddy gestured to the palace underneath them.

Brett passed the trapdoor and waited on the stairs for the Prince's imponent figure to appear.

They returned to the corridors, their steps muffled by the thick carpets.

Suddenly, Eddy pushed Brett into another room. It was dark and dusty, and there was some furniture covered in sheets.

Before Brett could protest, Eddy lifted a hand to his lips. The boy gulped but stayed quiet. Some seconds later, a pair of voices passed on the other side of the door.

"Guards," Eddy guessed. They waited until the voices disappeared and then Eddy came out of the room, closely followed by Brett.

The Prince looked at him with an apologetic look. "Sorry about that, I didn't-"

"Edward Ivor Chen!"

Both Eddy and Brett flinched at the sound.

A blonde maid was staring at them from the door that led to the roof. She looked angry, with her arms crossed.

"Hey, Sophie," Eddy started. "How are y-"

"Shut it, Chen. Half of the staff is looking for you. I can't believe that you come back after nine years and the first thing you do is sneak out. Again."

Brett was afraid Sophie was going to punch Eddy or something like that. However, her frown rapidly softened, replaced with a smile, and she opened her arms to hug Eddy.

"How dare you not come see me when you arrived," she accused. "I missed you!"

"I'm sorry, Soph." Eddy murmured. "You know how Mom is. I barely had time to change before the ball..."

"I know, I know," Sophie said. "Now, introduce me to your friend."

Eddy chuckled. "This is Brett Yang. He is guilty of dragging me out of the party."

Brett shot him a startled look, making the other two laugh.

"Don't worry, Brett. I know the only culprit here is Eddy. I'm Sophie." She offered her hand. Brett shook it before quickly pulling back.

"Pleased to meet you," he said, trying to seem respectable, even though Sophie had just seen him walking out of a dark room with the Prince.

"Well," Sophie sighed. "Behave, you two. I'll be serving desserts downstairs."

She left, leaving Brett and Eddy alone again.

"Sorry about that," Eddy muttered.

"Your middle name is Ivor?" Brett whispered back.

Eddy paused for one second before cracking up laughing.

"Of all this, that's what bothered you?"

"Well, yes," Brett said, also smiling. "Edward is great, but Ivor?"

"It's my father's name. Family tradition."

They returned to the ground level floor, where the orchestra was still playing.

"Serenade for Strings. Dvorak," Eddy said.

"What?"

"The music. It's one of my favourites. Apart from Debussy, of course."

"Debu-what?"

Eddy smiled. "I'll tell you all about it someday. It will blow your mind, I assure you."

Brett knew he probably wouldn't see Eddy again, and he knew it was selfish and reckless of him to hope he did. Still, he gave in and whispered: "Promise?"

Eddy seemed surprised but quickly agreed.

"Promise."

Brett felt his heart grow three times bigger and beamed. "I'll remember that."

"Don't worry. I intend to keep it," Eddy assured.

Brett opened his mouth to reply. However, before he could say anything, he spotted his sisters wearing their jackets, following his dad to the carriage. He turned to the closer window, checking the bright clock of a nearby church tower. Midnight, on the point.

"Dammit." he turned to face a confused Eddy and gently grabbed his elbow. "I'm sorry. I have to go. Bye!"

"Wha-"

But Brett was already running down the staircase, disappearing into the cold night. Eddy tried to follow him, skipping some steps on his way, all the protocol momentarily forgot.

"Brett! Wait!"

But a group of girls, eager for his attention - or his wealth - stopped him before he could pass the door. Brett ran until he found Hillary. By then, he was panting and panicking.

"Where were you?" Hillary pulled him into her carriage, signalling to the coachman to go.

"I'm sorry. I know it's late," Brett said, already imagining all his father could do when he found out he wasn't at home.

"Don't worry about it right now. What happened, happened," Hillary sighed. "Did you have fun?"

Brett looked at her, uncertain if he had heard her. "What?"

"We risked a lot coming here just for you to panic in the end. How was the ball?"

Brett leaned back in the upholstered seat, catching his breath. Images of the evening crossed his mind.

"Well?" Hillary insisted. "It seems good. You're smiling."

Brett realised he was. Even with the disaster that ended the ball, Brett had fun as he hadn't for a long time. He met not one but two new amazing people. Brett would never see them again, and Eddy would never fulfil his promise, but this night was worth any punishment his father could give him.

When they arrived, Mr Yang's carriage was already in its place. Brett thanked Hillary and crossed the garden in front of his house, preparing himself to face his family.

He opened the door, finding a very red and angry Mr Yang. 

\---

When his stepfather finally threw Brett into his bedroom, midnight was long gone. As he crawled to his bed, his voice hoarse from screaming and sure he had at least one broken bone, he tried to remember Eddy's stories and laughs.

Brett fell asleep a long time later, deep in pain but happy nonetheless.

\---

Trivia time!

**About the Chen Kingdom**

Chen's Kingdom is currently governed by King Ivor Chen and the Royal Council.

Its territory has three divided regions: Aspen (in the north), Thoele (in the centre) and Othela (in the south).

Prince Philip of Aspen is responsible for the northern territory. He calculates expenses, controls the livestock produced and ensures that people are satisfied. He has no power over the war at the border - the River War. The king is responsible for matters of war.

Queen Grace of Thoele is responsible for the centre of the kingdom. She received the title after her marriage to the King, former Prince Ivor of Thoele.

Prince Edward of Othela has the additional responsibility of ensuring that the agricultural products produced in the south are distributed equally across the kingdom. He also owns the coastal ports and surveys the maritime commerce.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, there you go. It was so much fun writing this chapter, even though I think it is all a huge cliché. I hope you liked it as much as I do.


	6. Family

About a week ago, Eddy had received a letter by mail.

Without a doubt, this was big news. Eddy's superiors, the Warrant Officers in charge of that fort, only received reports from the various field camps scattered around the surrounding land. His comrades never received letters. There weren't many falcons capable of bringing correspondence to a war zone.

Eddy was having lunch with the other Corporals when a Private walked towards him.

"Lance Corporal Chen," he said, his back so straight it probably hurt. The man had arrived only two weeks ago, fresh from the Academy, to join Eddy's section.

"What is it, Jackson?" Eddy tried to sound friendly, but it was hard. He had just finished loading two freight carriages with equipment. The food carts that should have arrived the day before never did. Until the search teams' return, there were orders to cut the meals by half. Eddy didn't feel very cheerful.

"The mail arrived, sir."

"Go give it to Officer Nunez, then."

"I can't, sir. It's a letter for you."

"What?"

Eddy stood and grabbed the envelope the Private held. Eddy recognized the emblem in the seal in the blink of an eye. But why would his parents write to him?

"Thank you, Jackson," he muttered, leaving to the dormitories. There, the rest of his section, the O'Malley twins, were eating.

"Eddy," said Hannah. "What are you doing here?"

"I got a letter." He looked at the girls, feeling lost. "From my parents."

"The King wrote you a letter?" Mary raised an eyebrow, sceptical. The twins understood the rarity of the situation. They went through the Academy years with Eddy until he left to the border. After two years of campaigns in the north, the prince returned to Fort Alfa, where the twins were. Since then, they had been part of the same section, helping in Fort Alfa and the near campaigns when someone needed.

Eddy sat between the girls and opened the envelope.

_Dear Edward,_

_As you may recall, your 21st birthday will take place in a week. Your mom and I decided it is time for you to return home. We will send a carriage to pick you up at Fort Alfa on the 20th._

_We await your arrival._

_King Ivor Chen_

"You're leaving?" Mary was as shocked as him.

Eddy's tongue felt like sandpaper. He hadn't left the army for three years. Before that, he just left the Academy for summer break, and he always spent that month at Aspen Royal Residence, with his brother Philip. Or at the Dove Palace, when his sister Belle got married to the prince of their neighbour country. The Chen Palace was a mere memory by now.

"I need to talk to Nunez," he said, already standing up.

"You can't leave," Hannah complained. "We are leaving for a campaign in two weeks! Fort Charlie needs support, and you are our best strategist."

"I know, Hannah, but I should have already returned a year ago. Officer Nunez asked my parents for me to stay a year in Fort Alfa as a Corporal before leaving to Thoele. I have to go now."

"What about our section?" asked Mary.

"I'm sorry, Mary. But this isn't a bad thing! I'll talk to the Royal Council, and tell my father what's happening in the border. I can help more from there."

The sisters sat in silence. They knew Eddy was right. Reconquering Fort Charlie wouldn't affect the war. Even if they managed to cross the no man's land and destroy the enemy's army, it would be impossible to secure their position. They didn't have enough horses, nor supplies, nor men. No matter how many successful assaults or battles Eddy planned from the field, they couldn't win the war without a treaty and a pen.

"Fine," Mary said. "Fine. Go. Talk with Nunez. Talk with the Council. Take us away from here."

"Thank you." Eddy opened the dormitory door. "I'll end the war for you, how about that?"

"Good luck," Hannah laughed. "You'll need it."

\---

Eddy shook Jackson's hand and hugged the twins one last time. Nunez watched his departure from the Fort door and nodded in goodbye when Eddy entered the carriage.

The horses started to trot, and Fort Alfa slowly disappeared in the foggy morning.

It took three days to get to Chen Palace. When they got there, the Queen was waiting for Eddy in her garden.

"Edward," she said when he approached. She gave him a short hug. "You are so grown up. It's been too long."

"Hello, mom."

"Happy birthday."

"Thanks."

"Come, your father is waiting for you."

Eddy followed her into the Palace. He was in shock. Walking in those corridors and rooms was oddly familiar. Like he was dreaming. Otherwise, how could the sofas be so soft under his hand, or his footsteps silence over the carpets? And why did the walls had notches in _gold_? When Eddy entered his father rooms and sat down in an upholstered chair, he almost fell asleep. He thought about the twins. They were probably having dinner by now, in the cold, humid and dark Fort Alfa, sitting over a thin mattress and even slimmer blankets.

His father entered the room, interrupting his thoughts. Eddy stood to greet him (and hopefully stay awake).

"Father."

"Edward, my boy. Happy birthday! Happy birthday! What else did I want to say? Oh, yes- Welcome back!" The King's face was red, and his fingers were shaking. He was probably drunk.

It wasn't a big surprise. Eddy didn't even bother to try feeling angry. At least his father wasn't smoking. Yet.

"Thank you, father." He couldn't avoid the disappointment in his voice. The King laughed, showing the wide smile that he only had after drinking enough. Then, he looked at Eddy's clothes, and his smile died.

"What are you wearing? Grace, what is he wearing?"

"It's his uniform, darling. He just got back from Fort Alfa," the Queen explained softly.

"Fort Alfa- Fort- Oh, yes. How is the border going, son?" Eddy didn't think his father was in the right state of mind to talk about the war, but it didn't hurt to try.

"Not well. We need to talk about-"

"Grace, why is he dressed like this? He can't go to the ball now."

"The ball? What ball?"

"Tradition, boy, tradition," the King gesticulated, impatient. "How do you think I met your mother?"

"What?" The prince froze.

"Listen, Edward," his mother turned to him, grabbing one of his hands. "Tonight we'll hold a ball in your honour. You turn 21 today, and it's time for you to find a woman and marry."

Eddy just looked at her, astounded.

"Don't give me that look. I was your age when Philip was born." She let go of his hand. "Now, come with me, we need to get you properly dressed."

\---

Eddy was pretty sure that a ball wasn't a wise way to find someone to marry. However, the tradition was tradition, and there was nothing his father loved more. So now Eddy was dressing a too expensive suit, smelling intensely like roses, mentally preparing to the night ahead of him.

His brother Philip entered the room at some point, and now he was watching Eddy struggle with the buttons of his coat.

"How have you been, Eddy? And how is my piece of land?"

"Aspen is great. The border, not so much." Eddy managed to close his coat at least. The suit he was wearing was probably supposed to look like an army uniform, but the fabric was way too good and the colour too bright to be worn in battle. And it was embroidered in gold, what didn't resemble the uniforms at all, _come on_. "I want to talk to the Council about that. We don't have conditions to keep this war going."

"You don't have to convince me. I am still responsible for overseeing the Kingdom's expenses, and the numbers aren't as big as they used too." Philip paused to cough.

"And how are you?" Eddy asked, feeling guilty for not asking earlier.

"You mean Coppy? She is great. Still takes my breath away, even after so many years." Eddy rolled his eyes. Just his brother to name his COPD as a girl. "I think you should attend a Council meeting and talk directly to them. Father hasn't been a good listener lately. Too much drinking and smoking."

"Is he smoking _again_?" Eddy strongly wanted to punch the King at that moment. Second-hand smoke was one of the reasons Philip got sick as a kid, quick and uncontrollably. And his father knew it.

"That's why I practically live in the library. God knows that Father wouldn't read a book to save his life. Thankfully, I'll return to Aspen in April, as soon as the dust and the pollen settle. I can take you with me..." Philip stopped again to cough. Then, he looked at Eddy with a raised eyebrow. "If you aren't married by then. I heard you have a ball to attend to today."

Eddy groaned. "I'm glad you heard about it. I didn't have that honour."

"Let me guess. Father didn't write about it." They both sighed, then laughed at it.

"Voilá," Eddy answered.

"At least you have a ball to attend," his brother noted, with a bitter tone to his voice. Eddy shrugged.

"You can go in my place. I think the heir to the throne will have more suiters than the second prince."

"Not even you believe that. I can't protect my land from the war, not even hold a ball to meet the youth. It's pathetic." Philip looked up, making Eddy freeze, unsure of what to say. "You know the condition of the war better than the palm of your hand. You care about the people more than anything, that's why you agreed to go to the border on the first place. And now you are willing to participate in a ball to follow the tradition. Even if it is the worse way of meeting a wife ever invented." Philip smiled. "I'm proud of you, Eddy. You will be a better king than me. Belle thinks the same way. And we are here to support you. Ending the war, convincing the Council, stopping the ball custom, whatever you need. Well, don't start crying, it's true."

Too late, Eddy was already tearing up.

"Prince Edward? It's time to go," a maid said, after a quick knock on the bedroom door. Philip gave him a last pat on the back and smiled.

"I will be downstairs if you need anything. Good luck."

He left, and the maid guided Eddy to the top of a staircase. The prince listened to the announcement proclaiming his presence. Then, he went down the stairs. A sea of young men and women stared at him, so Eddy tried to look as royal as possible. He hoped his rusty dancing skills didn't fail him and offered a dance to a girl in a pink dress.

It was time to honour tradition.

\---

Trivia time!

**About the Dove Kingdom**

The Dove Kingdom is currentlyruled by King James Dove.

Its territory is west from the Chen Kingdom. They are one of Chen Kingdom's allies.

Queen Belle earned her title after marrying King James. She was the former Princess Belle of Thoele.

Princess Lillian Dove is the heir to the throne. She is only five years old.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was it! A prince Edward overdose for everyone! I hope you liked it. See you next chapter!


	7. Tradition

Eddy was happy, angry and remarkably confused. Brett Yang was the most complicated man on Earth.

The prince was almost passing out from the continuous dancing and the growing heat inside the ballroom when he excused himself. He knew there was a lobby with plenty of balconies upstairs, so he headed there. 

Brett fell on top of him before he could get anywhere. 

They ended up on the rooftop, and Brett had listened to the stories from when Eddy managed to run from being a prince. Then, he showed him the planets and the constellations above them and told their stories, talking with him as if they were old friends.

Eddy had never felt so at ease. He forgot the wife he had to find, the never-ending battle at the border and the prince work waiting for him. 

When they returned to the ballroom, Brett was so happy when Eddy agreed to tell him about Debussy he almost jumped with excitement. The prince was never that eager to fulfil a promise.

However, Brett was gone as abruptly as he arrived, with just a light squeeze on Eddy's arm and a whisper of farewell. As he left, Brett took all the ease and happiness with him, and Eddy felt somehow empty, confused... and angry. Yet, above all, he was determined to find Brett Yang.

\---

Eddy woke up the morning after the ball feeling like he was still dreaming. The bed was too comfortable, and he felt surprisingly warm. Then he remembered where he was, and reality hit him like a bucket of cold water.

His young valet, Nico, helped him get dressed (which Eddy thought was extremely unnecessary), and informed him that his parents expected him to have lunch with them. When the prince got to the enormous dining room, the Queen was already there. 

"Good morning, Edward," she greeted, in her usual cheerful tone. "Did you sleep well?"

"Like a prince," he muttered in response, taking a seat in front of her. His mother smiled sweetly. 

"Belle is visiting us next week. I hope she brings her husband and little Lilly along. Wouldn't it be great?"

"It would," Eddy smiled. He missed his sister Belle, and he truly wanted to see his niece again. She probably had grown so much while he was away!

The door opened, revealing the King in his green apron. He had dark circles under his eyes and dragged his feet as he walked. When he talked, his voice was toneless. "'Morning."

"Good morning, darling. Will you join us?" The King grunted something in response and sat at the head of the table, stopping halfway to kiss his wife's cheek.

He was sober this time, Eddy realized, feeling somewhat relieved. He didn't want to deal with his overenergetic drunk father at the moment.

A maid brought some soup bowls, and they ate quietly for a while. The Queen was the first to break the silence.

"Edward, dear," she said, gathering the courage to talk about the elephant in the room. "How was the ball yesterday? Did you meet someone special?"

Eddy had, indeed. However, as he had told him, Brett wasn't the most suitable choice for a wife. The prince smiled at the thought. 

"I did. We had a wonderful time." 

He couldn't be more sincere. 

His mother beamed at him, and Eddy saw her shoulders relax under her brownish dress.

"How marvellous." She reached for the King's hand. "What do you think, dear?"

"We should invite her to have dinner with us," the King suggested, without even looking up. The Queen laughed gently.

"Just like the tradition." She put down her spoon and wiped her mouth carefully. "I'll send a message immediately. We should also invite the family!"

"Perfect," Eddy said with a smile.

"Who is the lucky girl, son?" the King asked, still starring at his soup.

"Christina," he replied. "Christina Yang Lin."

\---

When Thursday came, Eddy was so excited even Philip noticed.

"Eddy, relax," he said, for the tenth time in the past hour. He slowly closed his book - a clear sign that his patience was ending. "You are making _me_ anxious. Dinner is just at six."

"I know," Eddy whispered, finally sitting next to his brother. However, before Philip could even reopen his book, Eddy jumped as if the sofa had bitten him, continuing to roam around the library. Philip sighed in exasperation.

"Why are you so worked up over this? Does the whole ball thing work after all and you found your soulmate?"

"I don't believe in soulmates," said the younger brother. "But I met... someone."

"Someone," his brother repeated, sceptic.

"It's not what you think," Eddy quickly added. "I don't even like Christina. But I met her stepbrother, and mom said she would invite the entire family."

Philip stared at him, dumbfounded. Then, he started laughing, so hard Eddy feared his lungs would give up there and then. 

"You told mom you like a girl so you could hang out with her _brother_?" Now Philip was wheezing. Eddy felt his cheeks flushing, and he sat on the couch again.

"Well, yes..." he mumbled, staring at the floor. Philip rolled his eyes, still smiling. 

"Is he that handsome?"

Eddy thought of Brett's reddened face when they first bumped into each other, and of his delicate fingers when he hoisted him to the roof, and of his smile when Eddy made his promise. 

The prince was unquestionably blushing now.

"It isn't like that. I ran away from the ball, and we met-"

"You _ran away_?" Philip let out a soundless laugh, shaking his head. "I thought you didn't do that anymore."

"It's just..." Eddy grumbled, flushed. "I made him a promise, and I intend to keep it, okay?" He got up and headed for the door, ending the discussion. However, Philip spoke before he could leave. He didn't sound playful anymore.

"The Council is meeting on Saturday." Eddy turned to face him and nodded. "Do you need me to go with you?"

Eddy thought about the last time he went to a Council assemblage. He was only 10, and the palace was still his whole world. The men around the table looked threatening, and Eddy wanted to accept any support he could get. But this fight was his. Philip couldn't help on this one.

"Thanks, but you don't need to worry. I can do this." Philip nodded as if he was already expecting that answer. "Anyway," he added with a smile. "How bad can some old men in wigs be?"

\---

"What about Brett?" Eddy asked.

Mr Lin choked on his drink and Annabell jumped in her seat. The prince was sure he saw Christina shoot an ice glare at them. He was starting to get used to these.

The Yang Lins had arrived at the Palace one hour ago, as expected. Eddy had immediately noticed that Brett was missing. However, his family didn't explain his absence, not even when they sat in the dining room, or as the Queen started her trademark small talk. 

After they chattered about the latest horse race in Thoele and the Fall Market, that would begin in the following week, Mr Lin began to ramble about his deceased wife. Eddy's mother got teary-eyed immediately. The prince would too (not even the war had hardened his soft heart) if Mr Lin's voice wasn't that honeyed and artificial. So, when the man ended his deceptive speech with an affected "My daughters are all I have now", Eddy had to ask.

"What about Brett?"

The Lins weren't the only ones he startled. Philip lifted an eyebrow, gently putting down his water glass, and his parents exchanged a puzzled glance. Even Sophie (who Eddy had asked to help serve dinner, hoping Brett would feel more comfortable around a familiar face) looked surprised with his question.

"Who is Brett?" asked the King in his hoarse sober voice.

"Noone-"

"Mrs Yang's son." Eddy interrupted Christina, taking more astonished glares. Well, he didn't know Brett's kinship with Mrs Yang, but by how pale Mr Lin looked, Eddy was confident he got it right. "I met him at the ball and expected him to come with you."

Nobody talked. Eddy stared at Mr Lin, who gulped several times, his face redder by the second.

"Well," Philip cleared his throat. "It's a shame he didn't make it. I'm sure he will come next time?"

Mr Lin gulped one last time.

"Of... of course." One more glacial glance from Christina. "He will come."

\---

After dinner, they spent an hour in the living room, playing cards and talking about the weather, which was awkward. Philip left as soon as his father asked Sophie for his pipe. Eddy would too - if he wasn't too busy avoiding the Queen's accusing stare and smiling at Christina as much as he could, flirting soo badly that the O'Malley twins would laugh for weeks.

The Lins eventually left, and Eddy could breathe again. His mother gave him a pat on the back and a goodnight kiss before leaving, so the prince assumed that it didn't go _that_ terribly. 

Before going to sleep, he sat at his old desk, with an inkwell and some paper. He still had a promise to fulfil, and he wouldn't let the Lins get in his way. 

Eddy held his pen.

_Dear Brett,_

_\---_

Trivia time!

**About the Blackworth Kingdom**

The Blackworth Kingdom is currently ruled by King Linus Blackworth. 

Its territory is east from the Chen Kingdom. They are one of Chen Kingdom's enemies and are involved in the River War.

Queen Guida died some years ago. 

Prince Aidan Blackworth is the heir to the throne. He is twenty-five years old.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! It's been some time, I know. I was forced into a mini-hiatus because I didn't have access to a computer for the past weeks. Sorry! However, we are back with full force! This trouble duo still has a lot coming up, and I will make as dramatic as possible, as always.  
> Also, when I write the Queen, I can help but imagine she has the thickest of British accents. Is it just me?  
> I hoped you liked this chapter! In the next one, we will be back with Brett's POV. See you later!


	8. Fear

The day after the ball, Brett woke up with the sound of the water pumping inside the thin walls of the house. 

He stood up carefully, groaning in the process. His body was stiff and hurt, but, after a quick survey, Brett didn't find anything out of place or broken. He got lucky this time. 

There were, however, loads of bruises and cuts around his waist and shoulders, and Brett was sure his back should look just as gruesome, even if his stepdad had been too furious to pull out his belt last night. His right eye wouldn't open, so Brett guessed he probably had a black eye. It was a first. His father never left marks where others could see them. Anyway, Brett was sure he wouldn't go out anytime soon. He would probably limp for a few days too, by the swelling around his shin. 

Brett got in his customary blue button-up and pants - so old he couldn't tell what colour they used to be. Ray's suit was dusty and rumpled, but Brett could fix that before returning it.

He carefully went down the stairs to the kitchen. There, Sarah and the other maids were already having breakfast. They looked away at the sight of him, starring intensely at their porridge. After Brett managed to swallow a toast and a glassful of milk, Sarah gave him an ice bag, and the cook whispered that the maids' bathroom would be empty for the rest of the morning. The boy didn't need to hear it twice. The water had a pink tone after he scrubbed himself the best that he could. With the help of the ice, he was able to open his eye, and the pain in his shin became duller.

After that, the day was calm. The Lins slept until lunchtime, and, after that, Brett was able to avoid his stepdad, even if it meant being around his sisters for the afternoon. 

\---

The next day, the mailman brought another invitation from the palace. Brett wasn't there when Mr Lin read it to his daughters, but Annabell's enthusiastic screams were enough enlightenment: they were going to have dinner with the royal family on Thursday.

Saying that Brett was surprised was an understatement. He thought Eddy didn't like Christina or Annabell, so why would he invite them? In the following days, Brett couldn't avoid the confusion and envy boiling in his stomach whenever he looked at his stepsisters. 

Brett tried to stop feeling that way, telling himself that being with Eddy once had been good enough. And that there was absolutely no reason for the prince to want to meet him again, especially after how Brett left after the ball.

Still, Brett was upset and decided to cope with it like he always did. When his family left on Thursday, he sneaked out again.

\---

When she saw Brett at the door, Hillary didn't think twice before inviting him to have dinner with her. She didn't blink when she saw his now yellowish bruises, fading cuts and soft limping, though the boy recognised a glimpse of guilt in her eyes. 

Hillary didn't ask about it. She never had, and Brett often questioned if it was because of how Mr Lin pushed Ray away eight years ago or because Hillary had also got her share of wounds and broken bones.

However, Hillary's reservations with questions ended there.

"You have to tell me what happened at the ball, " she happily said, after they ate. Brett felt pleasantly full and had almost forgotten about what made him go there in the first place.

"No," he murmured, sinking in Hillary's soft yellow couch. "You'll overreact."

"I won't, I promise," she replied. "Pretty please?" Brett shook his head and moved onto another topic.

"We received an invitation from the palace." He saw Hillary straightening up on her armchair, taking a sip from her teacup. "The royal family wanted to have dinner with them."

"Seems like Mr Lin's investment in lessons finally paid out," she said, with a short and bitter laugh. "That's why you came here?" Brett nodded, and Hillary arched her eyebrows. "You wanted to go too?"

The boy hugged a flower-printed pillow, feeling his cheeks reddening. Sometimes it was disconcerting how easily Hillary was able to read him.

"Wait, seriously? Did you get a crush on the prince? Is he that handsome?"

"Shuddup," Brett mumbled into the pillow. 

"Oh, Brett!" Hillary forgot her tea and ruffled his hair with a grin on her face. "Now you _ really _ have to tell me what happened at the ball. Did you meet him?"

He didn't get to answer. Behind the window in front of him, Brett noticed a carriage arriving. 

"Sugar honey ice tea, I have to go."

"Be careful," Hillary called, as he grabbed his coat and waved goodbye.

"Always!"

\---

Number 16 and 24 of Mount Square shared the same backyard, so it was easy to get in his house by the kitchen door. The room was empty, and no one noticed his return. 

A loud shattering sound upstairs made Brett flinch. The yell that followed froze him to the bone.

"BRETT YANG!"

He legs were shaking, his breath shallow, and all his instincts told him to run. 

But Brett couldn't. He had tried and got a broken rib. He tried again, and the scars that followed still marked his back and chest. It got worst every time.

Brett had nowhere to run. His father would always find him, and hurt him and anyone who got involved.

He went up the stairs.

\---

Trivia time!

** About the River War **

The River War is a dispute between the Chen and Blackworth kingdoms for the territory between the Blue and the Green River. 

The Blackworth Kingdom is interested in the abundant mineral resources. The Chen Kingdom wants the territory for its fertile soil and good weather, propitious for agriculture.

The conflict is almost 100 years old, but none of the factions is capable of ending it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I promise it'll be alright! It will get better, I swear!  
> Second, thank you so much! We reached 50 kudos after the last chapter! Wow. Here, take this trunk of love and appreciation, it's for you! See you next chapter (if you don't exterminate me until then) <3


	9. Letter

The first thing Brett saw was the blue shards scattered on the floor. Someone broke a vase. He noticed Sarah, shrunken in a corner, out of reach. His sisters were also there. 

At last, he saw his stepfather. 

He had his hands clenched into fists, and a stare almost as scary as Christina's. His scowl made Brett gulp, but he didn't move. Mr Lin did.

Christina stopped him. 

"Dad," she said tonelessly. "You can't. He will go next time too, so you can't. They can't see it."

He stopped, but his stare didn't leave Brett. In the following seconds, the boy thought that whatever Christina had said didn't work and he would end there and then. But Mr Lin eventually unclenched his fists and left the room, stomping.

Brett let out a shaky breath and almost collapsed with relieve, regardless of how brief it could be.

Christina walked to him, disgust clear in her expression. "I'll take care of you tomorrow. Now, get me a cup of tea, will you?"

\---

_ Dear Brett, _

_ I hope you are doing well since our last encounter.  _

_ You may know that my family and I met your stepfather and sisters today, as tradition says. We all were pleased to meet them and would like them to return and spend some days at Chen's Palace.  _

_ As Christina's brother, you are more than welcome to join us on Saturday. We are preparing your stay as fast as possible.  _

_ I would be thrilled to have you here. You can visit the palace and go to the gardens. We will have music and lots of food. Can you come, please? _

_ Dearly, _

_ Eddy Chen _

So  _ that's _ why is stepfather had been so furious. No wonder! Not only Brett had gone to the ball, but he had also met the prince, and now Eddy wanted him to come with them to the palace. 

He sat down on his bed, with his head in his hands and a sigh, still holding the letter. Eddy had no idea of what he was doing, what could have happened, because of his request. What could happen if his father found the letter Sarah had so much trouble hiding from him to give to Brett.

Brett looked at it again, and a smile dared to grow in his face. Eddy's handwriting was neat and full of flourishes in the top of the page - as if the prince had tried to keep it formal. Then, it slowly grew more rounded and flew out of the lines, and the words became sweeter and familiar.

How could Brett say no to him?

\---

Later that day, Christina called the owner of a clothing store to take Brett's measures. 

Annabell was nearby the entire time, saying how it was time for Brett to 'finally move on from that  _ disgusting _ clothes of his', because 'blue was soooo no his colour'. 

Christina stayed mostly in silence, sometimes shutting Annabell up or discussing fabrics and cuts with Jayne, the shop owner.

Brett was starting to feel enthusiastic again, like during the weeks before the ball. Although, this time, he wasn't looking forward to the orchestra and its music, but to meet Eddy. He decided he liked that feeling, the longing before he could get to the palace.

His sisters didn't. In the following days, they were cranky and anxious. Well, at least Annabell was. Christina didn't truly show any emotions besides exasperation towards Anna and disgust every time Brett entered the room. He assumed she was annoyed because he had been able to meddle her soon-to-be marriage.

Brett didn't understand Eddy in that matter. He didn't seem to like Christina that much, so why would he act like he wanted to marry her? Brett thought he would have to ask next time he saw him.

He realised he was smiling.

He would see Eddy again.

\---

Saturday morning made his good mood vanish. A package full of new clothes had arrived, and Christina made him change three times before she was mildly content with it. 

Mr Lin wouldn't stop glaring at him, as if he was one hair away from snapping. He, like Christina, probably also thought that Brett's presence would ruin his plans of making his daughter the princess. Brett was relieved his father was too interested in grabbing this chance to harm him, but still tried to keep at least an arm-length between them at all times.

He carried the bags to the carriage. There were loads of them. He thought they would only stay for some days, but Anna's rambling revealed that their visit would last until the marriage, or until the prince sent them away. Brett hopped none of these happened.

As he settled the last container in the back of the carriage, Hillary got out of her house. 

"Brett? Where are they going with all that baggage?" she asked.

"We are going to the palace." Hillary raised her eyebrows with a suggestive smile. Brett sighed. "It's not like that, okay? I think Edward wants to marry Christina and I'm family, so I'm also going."

Her eyes widened. "What? That boy sure has some bad taste." Brett shook his head but felt somewhat better with Hillary by his side. "Well, don't forget all about me while you are with your man."

"He's not  _ my man _ ," he protested, but Hillary was already returning to her home, waving goodbye.

\---

The trip to the palace was brief, so they got there just in time for dinner. The King and the Queen were waiting for them in the palace hallway, one grumpy and the other smiling. Brett's family hurried to greet them.

"You must be Brett," Queen Grace said, to his surprise. She held out a hand that Brett kissed, making her giggle and grin even more widely. Now Brett could see where Eddy got his cheeky and too-bright smiles. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"It's a pleasure to meet you too. Thank you for welcoming us to your home." Brett mentally facepalmed. The palace wasn't exactly a  _ house _ , but the Queen didn't seem to mind. On the contrary, she looked quite charmed.

"It's great to have you here. Shall we head to the dining room? We will serve dinner in some minutes."

When they entered a palace wing Brett hadn't visited before, he caught a surprised glance from Christina, as if she couldn't believe his not-that-terrible social skills. Brett allowed himself to feel a little proud of himself for not being that hopeless.

They entered another room with paintings in gold frames and dark furniture. An enormous table took its place in the middle of at least twenty upholstered chairs, and a handful of maids were busy setting the table and carrying golden plates covered in more food than Brett could imagine possible. 

He saw Sophie arranging a vase with sunflowers in the middle of the table. She noticed him and smiled before crossing the door to what Brett assumed was the kitchen. It didn't make Brett less nervous, but he felt happy to see a familiar face.

Then, he saw the marks that indicated everyone's place. His seat was between his stepfather's and Annabell's. Brett's frowned - this would be more difficult than he thought.

He heard the door opening behind him and the Queen saying something along the lines of 'finally'. Brett turned, and a pair of dark eyes met his.

"Brett!" Eddy said. "You came!"

\---

Trivia time!

** About the Royal Council **

The Royal Council helps Chen Kindom's King rule. 

In the last years, its most prominent member was Sir Doyle, who stood out due to his ideals of honour and tradition. He is one of King Ivor's closest friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe someday I will write a spin-off just for the Queen to say "Bloody hell, take your filthy hands off me! Are you mental?"  
> Fortunately, we will stick with the regular program, and you won't have to deal with me trying to sound British.  
> Also, we just reached 10k words! Isn't that a lot?  
> As always, thank you so much for reading! See you next chapter!


	10. Reunion

Eddy woke up on his bed, fully clothed. He yawned and rubbed his eyes, trying to get the sleep off them. He had probably fallen asleep after the Council meeting, and Nico didn't wake him up. 

Eddy sighed. The assemblage had been an absolute failure and, overall, terrifying. He came to the palace, convinced that he would be able to help more from there, sure that the Council would understand the horrors in the border: the lost men, the ruined land, the screams and the blood. He came, hoping that they could make it stop. But the men didn't care, and his father wouldn't stop yelling about honouring his ancestors and following the customs. 

It seemed like his father didn't know what they were fighting for anymore. Like he was sending his men to face certain death because of his ideal of tradition. Eddy told him exactly that, and his father shouted that they could accuse him of treason, using a lot of 'if you weren't my son's and 'I expected more of you's. Sober King screamed a lot.

The prince was starting to feel like it would have been better if he had stayed at the border to keep everyone he could alive with his infallible plans.

But, if he had, he wouldn't have met Brett.

Brett.

Brett that would come to stay in the palace for the next weeks, hopefully. 

Brett, who liked music and the stars, and made everything else seem easy.

Brett, to whom he wrote a letter almost begging for him to come. Because he made a promise, and he intended to keep it.

Brett, that was supposed to arrive-

Eddy looked at the clock in his bedside table.

"Bloody hell-" 

He darted out of bed, trying to straighten his hair with a hand and smoothening his rumpled jacket with the other. He decided his clothes could do, and rushed down the stairs, to the hall. There wasn't anyone there, so Eddy assumed they had already gone to the dining room (if you could call it that - Fort Alfa's canteen was smaller).

He sprinted towards the West Hall, just stopping in front of the massive dining room doors. He took a few deep breaths, trying to stop panting, before entering the room.

The first person he saw was his mother, who shot him a disapproving look behind her flashing smile. "Edward! You finally decided to join us?"

Then, the prince noticed the man behind her, who had just turned to meet his gaze. His brain momentarily stopped working as if a thousand fireworks decided to explode there. 

Brett was wearing a grey suit, which fitted him like a glove, and - Eddy noticed before he could help it - did wonders to his broad shoulders. Brett's eyes widened when he recognized Eddy, and the prince was able to spot an almost-smile curling his lips. Eddy beamed back, only managing to blurt out a "Brett! You came!"

He seemed embarrassed, having everyone in the room watching him, and his eyes rambled around the room, avoiding everyone's stares. Eddy murmured an internal _sorry_ and hurried to change the topic. 

"Did you got here with no problems?"

"Yes, thank you," Mr Lin responded. "We still have a lot of luggage in the carriage..."

"That won't be a problem," the Queen assured. "I'll make sure that our staff brings everything to your rooms."

And just like that, Brett wasn't the centre of attention anymore, and he let out a relieved sigh. Eddy smirked. It had been a while since the prince had met someone as shy as him.

Soon, the diner began, and the conversation fell to more pointless matters. Eddy couldn't avoid a bitter thought about the hundreds of people outside the castle walls, struggling with the beginning of the cold seasons while they talked about the latest Janine Jansen's concert, seated in upholstered chairs. The prince suddenly lost his appetite and put down the silverware. 

He glanced towards Brett and found him eating as his life depended on it. He wasn't a loud eater, but not even the Bull (an old friend of his from the Academy days, who got his nickname due to his size) couldn't stuff that much food in him. 

Eddy watched in awe while Brett downed two full plates of roasted pork and rice under five minutes. Then he started to notice other things, like the faint yellow bruise right under his right eye, or the way his eyes always anxiously searched the room. He also noted the tense tone in his "Yes, I would like to go to a concert," and his "No, I never left Othela."

The prince frowned, suddenly concerned. He wished Philip was there too, but his lungs were having a bad day, so Eddy asked him to stay in bed.

He could ask Brett what was wrong (despite his gut telling him that Brett would dodge his questions) or what he could do for him, but there wasn't exactly where the man would feel comfortable, taking into account the glares his family was giving him.

Something was going on between the Yang Lin family members. Eddy couldn't quite put a finger on it yet, but he was determined to find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brett and Eddy are together again! Or at least less than 50 meters apart. We can't have everything at the same time, or I couldn't call this a slow burn.  
> And I apologize for my inability to swear.  
> There's no Trivia Time today, but, if you have any question about this world, feel more than free to ask. I'll be sure to answer everything I can without spoiling anything.  
> The next chapter is a very, very sweet one. It will give you diabetes and cavities, I hope. See you next chapter!


	11. Meteor rain

Eddy wandered around the palace's corridors, unable to sleep. What happened during diner was still bothering him. The way Brett had acted- He wasn't the man he met, at all.

Eddy had stared at him for almost the entire meal, but he didn't meet his eyes once. Brett looked ever smaller, shrunken in his chair, and not even the Queen's sweet small talk was able to pull more than short sentences out of him. 

Eddy hadn't got the chance to talk to him properly, because Brett practically ran away after his father told him something about 'beds' and 'tea', right after diner. As he left, Eddy could swear Brett was limping.

He just seemed so distant, afraid - like he was waiting for a bomb to explode. Was he nervous because of his parent's presence?  _ Eddy's _ presence? 

The prince sighed, frustrated. He was hoping for the easiness he found during the ball, but got the exact opposite, and felt somewhat disappointed. 

He urgently needed to relax, so he headed for the safest place he knew. Some minutes later, Eddy hoisted himself to the rooftop. He took in a deep breath, trying - and failing - to clear his head.

"Hi."

Startled, Eddy lost his balance and would have fallen out the roof if it wasn't for the hands that pulled him back to his knees.

"Sorry," Brett said, rapidly removing his hands from Eddy's arm and tucking them in his pockets. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"'S fine," Eddy said, still dumbfounded by the almost-fall and by Brett's closeness. He sat as far from the roof's edge as possible, giving Brett some space, which visibly loosened the tension in the other's back.

"Why are you here?" Brett asked, and Eddy felt relieved. He was talking to the Brett he recognised; the Brett that asked questions and talked about the stars.

"Couldn't sleep." The other man nodded. "You?"

Brett ignored his question. "Why am I here? In the palace, I mean," he asked, instead. Eddy looked at him, surprised, but Brett's eyes stayed fixed in the garden under them. The wind blew, and Brett's hair drifted, showing his pale forehead. The sweet fragrance of his mother's flowers reached them, mixed with the distant smell of the city surrounding them.

"Because you are Christina's sibling? And all her family is staying here?" Eddy sounded like he was trying to convince himself.

"Why are we staying here? Why would you want to marry  _ Christina _ ? Do you really want to marry her?"

'No.' The answer was immediate in Eddy's head. But, if he didn't, there would be no reason for Brett to be there.

"I wanted to see you." Eddy decided to opt for honesty - like always.

Now Brett was looking at him, with his eyebrows raised and his mouth in a perfect 'o' of surprise. Just for some seconds. Then, he turned to face the garden again. "Why?"

A smirk peeked at the corner of Eddy's lips. "Those are a lot of 'why's."

Brett's back stiffened again, and something like the fear from earlier reappeared in his eyes. "Sorry, I-"

"No, no, no," Eddy urged, turning and gesticulating, trying to assure Brett. "It is nice." But he didn't decompress, and the prince sighed. "I made you a promise, remember? And I intend to keep it." Brett looked at him again, almost sceptical.

"Really?" he whispered.

"Really." Eddy hoped he sounded as convincing as possible. "We can meet tomorrow in the music room. I'll send Sophie to pick you up. Is that okay?"

Brett smiled: a smile that showed his pearly teeth and made his eyes wrinkle. The same smile he had some nights ago, when the prince made him his promise. Eddy felt breathless - as if someone punched him in the chest. "It is okay." 

Eddy was smiling too, uncontrollably. He looked away, staring at the sky instead, and trying to calm down his cheeks. The dark sea before him looked as dazzling as ever. Today they could see the moon - a thin white slice above them. 

Eddy had always prefered the moon to the sun. He could stare at it for hours, daydreaming about going there someday. Moreover, it was easier to protect his troops at night. The night always covered his attacks, where strategy and intelligence had the upper hand over brute force. At daytime, the Blackworth soldiers were fast to spot them, and they were good with long-range weapons.

Eddy shook his head. It wasn't the date or time to worry about the border.

"Do you have any more stories about the stars to tell me?" he murmured, turning to Brett.

"I don't know that many," he said. Eddy decided that it didn't sound like a 'no'. "But, tonight, we will have something better than stories. I read about it in the newspaper last week."

"What? What could be better than-"

Eddy didn't get to finish that sentence, because, suddenly, the stars started to fall.

Eddy heard Brett gasp in delight by his side, his eyes wide open and a grin plastered on his face. 

A dozen, no, a hundred- a thousand of bright tails crossed the night sky, fast and brief. The garden's lake reflected the sky, and it seemed like stars were falling under them too. 

None of them spoke while the meteor rain lasted. After it ended, the prince took some minutes before speaking. When he did, he whispered, afraid he would break that moment.

"Wow."

"Wow," Brett agreed and smiled again.

\---

They stayed on the roof for a while, appreciating the night and the comfortable silence between them. Brett was finally looking happy and carefree, so Eddy felt well too. Again, everything that bothered him during the day vanished, as if someone lifted a weight off his shoulders. The prince didn't know how long it would last, so he made sure to enjoy it while he could.

When he saw that Brett was blinking more heavily and his head was falling forward, the prince asked if he wanted to go. Brett nodded, and they returned to the stairs. He accepted Eddy's hand to help him get down, but he was so sleepish that he ended up tripping and bumping into the prince. Brett muttered a mountain of 'sorry's, until Eddy whispered that it was okay, and let go of his hand. Eddy felt it tickling long after they went down the staircase.

They wandered around the empty corridors, heading to the visitor's rooms. When they got there, Eddy felt Brett stiffening by his side and got that feeling that something was wrong again. Brett opened the door, as silently as possible, and was about to slip in when Eddy's fingers brushed his shoulder.

"Brett," he whispered. His hand fell, and he gazed at Brett's scared eyes. "Why don't you stay at my wing tonight?"

Brett gave him a look - surprised, relieved and sceptical, all at the same time. "Really?" 

Eddy smirked lightly. "Of course. I won't propose something I can't give you. You can stay at my sister's old room."

"Won't she mind?" Brett said, but Eddy could sense how relieved he was, behind those words.

"I don't think so," Eddy assured. Brett graciously stepped out of the room and reclosed the door with a content sigh.

Eddy guided him up a flight of stair to the royal family's rooms. He woke Nico up and asked his help to prepare the bed for Brett. Nico raised his eyebrows but didn't ask any questions, and Eddy felt grateful. Soon enough, the valet said his 'good night's and Eddy handed one of his pyjamas to Brett, who hesitantly took them after Eddy promised it wasn't a problem.

Eddy was about to leave when Brett called him.

"Is everything alright?" the prince asked, looking at him one more time. Now, his grey jacket was crumpled, and his hair wild, revolved by the wind.

"Thank you," Brett said, looking down. "For letting me stay here, and for earlier. Also, for inviting me. I'm happy I came."

Eddy's smile had never been that easy. "I'm glad. Thank you for being here." Brett nodded and hesitated for one second before he lifted his arm to squeeze Eddy's. His hand was quickly gone, but Eddy felt like Brett had just given him the biggest of hugs. 

"Good night," Brett whispered, swiftly entering his room.

"'Night." 

Eddy remained for an instant in the corridor, dazzled, before going into his bedroom. That night, he slept with a smile in his lips and without a care in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got zero self-control and a serious problem with fluff fanfiction. I hope you liked this chapter because I loved to write it.  
> Anyway, Eddy is protective af, and Brett needs to be taken care of for one time in his life. Next time we will have a lot of music and more fluffiness.  
> See you next chapter!


	12. Music

Eddy unhurriedly crossed the west hallway, reaching the thick library doors with a yawn. His eyelids were half-closed and his steps heavy - the hours he spent awake in the previous night were showing its effects.

His yawn curled into a smile as he remembered the meteor rain, and images of stiff but sweet smiles flooded his mind. He hadn't seen Brett again yet - when he checked his sister's bedroom earlier, he found no traces of the man's presence, besides his pyjamas, neatly folded on the bedside table. 

Eddy contently sighed as he opened the door in front of him, and the warm and rusty smell of old pages and leather covers filled his breaths. As he expected, his brother in the library, almost drowning in the soft upholstery of an armchair, reading his Shakespeare.

"Good morning," Eddy greeted. "Feeling any better?"

Philip smiled, nodding, despite is purplish oxygen-deprived lips, and his very careful breaths. With some effort, Eddy was able to contain his grimace as he took it in. "My lungs won't take me down this time. How did the meeting go, yesterday?"

"Terrible," Eddy confessed, taking a seat on the sofa next to his brother. "Putting an end to this war may be more difficult than I expected."

Philip let out a careful sigh. "I feared so, but I hoped that you-" He shook his head, and Eddy raised an eyebrow in a silent question. "Nevermind. Just let me know if you need anything. They may change their minds." His brother sounded more hopeful than sure.

"I doubt it." Eddy leaned back, staring at the ceiling. The scarce sunlight that escaped through the skylight above the bookshelves bathed his face. "Father won't stop talking about following the tradition and honouring our ancestors. He doesn't care that it is killing more than he could count. He and that pointless Council of his-" 

"You're a hopelessly honest man, Eddy," Philip sighed. "Yet, all things considered, we shouldn't follow a tradition that dispatches all the healthy youth in Aspen and costs half of the kingdom's profits."

Eddy felt exasperated again. It was the same sentiment he felt when he understood that the Council wouldn't help the border, or when something in his plans went wrong, or when there was news of old friends and new comrades who succumbed to Blackworth's attacks. The feeling that haunted him at late hours, when he couldn't do anything but wait until the sun rose so he could  _ do _ something.

"Doyle isn't helping either," he recalled. Sir William, one of his father's best friends, hadn't wasted a single opportunity to dismiss Eddy's concerns throughout the meeting or to backup the King's statements. "If there's anyone as obstinate as Father, it's him." 

Philip groaned. "I hate that guy. Always insisting on checking the income reports before me, always trying to stick his bony nose in my expenses plans."

"Bro," Eddy pleaded. "We're domed. Let's go to Aspen and declare independence."

Philip smiled sadly - as if he wished it was possible. He softly closed his book, leaving a velvet strip between the yellow pages.

"We won't need that. You'll be the King, remember?" 

The younger prince shook his head firmly. "Just after you." A lump formed on the back of his throat, as it always did when Philip brought this matter up.

"Don't be that hopeful, Edward. I'm not getting any better." His brother's tone was sweet, but Eddy could hear the bitterness inside it. He frowned and opened his mouth, ready to reply, when the door opened behind him.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," a honeyed voice said. 'Christina,' Eddy placed. "Prince Edward? I was wondering. Would you be able to show me the gardens? It's so nice outside today."

Eddy squeezed his eyes for a second to gather his thoughts and patience. When he opened them again, Philip was looking at him with a questioning look and a smirk. Eddy rolled his eyes before turning to Christina, who had the most artificial smile he had ever witnessed plastered on her face. The prince matched it with one of his own.

"Sure. Why not?" Christina smile spread, and he got up. A cold hand on his shoulders held him.

"In fact," Philip said, "I was about to ask my brother to accompany me outside, but, since you are here, I'm sure you won't mind going with me instead."

For a second, the woman looked like she bit a lemon. Then, her smile returned, although stiffened. "Of course. It will be my pleasure."

"Marvellous," Philip smiled. "Don't get used to this. You can't avoid it forever," he whispered to Eddy. 

He hurried to meet an expecting Christina in the doorway, just turning to blink sloppily at Eddy. The prince let out a small laugh. Philip never knew how to wink.

\---

When Brett arrived at the music room, Eddy was rummaging through his old disks, trying to find his favourites. A pile of Chopin samples surrounded him, but Sophie must have moved the Debussy ones. He would have to ask her where to.

"Oh, good morning," Eddy said when the door opened to reveal a somewhat frightened Brett. "Is Sophie with you?"

The man shook his head with an apologetic look. "Sorry, she already left. Said she needed to return to the kitchens."

Eddy hummed in acknowledgement and turned to the discs again. "It's okay. I can't find the Debussy discs. Sophie plays very well and comes here to practice, so I thought she moved them."

Brett shrugged it off. "What's this?" he asked, sitting next to Eddy in the middle of the discs and piking one of them.

"Let me see," Eddy beamed. "That's Anne-Sophie Mutter. She's a violinist."

"Oh," Brett turned the disc in his hands, seeming fascinated. "Is Beethoven the name of the piece?"

Eddy laughed lightly, pointing to the box. "It's the name of the composer. The piece is his Kreutzer, see?"

"Can we listen to it?" Brett's eyes were the size of plates, hopeful and supplicant. The light, filtered by the yellowish curtains, made them seem like pots of gold.

"Of course."

Soon enough, Eddy figured out how the gramophone worked (there was a trick with the needle) and returned to sit next to Brett, his back to the wall. 

Sounds of applause filled the room before a sharp chord cut the air, followed by sweet, sweet notes. The prince felt Brett jumping by his side, again when the piano made its entrance, and a grin grew on his lips. He closed his eyes and listened.

The violin was soon back to the keen notes, to the pointy pizzicatos, and then to its pianissimo passages. As the piano waltzed through the second movement, Eddy couldn't avoid the pang in his chest. This performance left him so nostalgic and sorrowful-

He opened his eyes to a soft touch in his cheek. Brett was looking at him, frowning in what seemed like worry. "You're crying," he whispered, returning his hand to his lap.

Surprised, Eddy lifted a hand to his face, and it came back wet. "Sorry. It's been a long time since I've listened to something like this."

Brett shook his head. "It's okay." Eddy almost smiled at the role change. "I also think it's beautiful. How does she play so loudly and still sound so soft?"

"No idea. Practice, I assume?" Eddy shrugged.

"I'll have to practice fourteen hours a day to do that," Brett lamented, twisting the rug's long soft strips between his fingers.

Eddy snickered. "More like forty," he suggested.

Brett did that smile again, the one that punched the air out of Eddy's lungs. "Yeah. You are probably right." 

Then, he closed his eyes, bringing his knees to his chin, so the prince didn't have to cover the blush that flooded his face.

\---

Eddy walked up the north staircase, closely following his mother. The sun shone weakly outside, setting behind the far mountains in the Blakworth Kingdom.

Echos of a violin concert still lingered inside his head, intertwined with phantoms of pearly smiles and music discs.

"Where are we going, mother?" Eddy asked as they crossed an empty passageway, heading towards the royal family's rooms.

"One of the artists I patron sent us a new painting, and it just arrived," she hurriedly answered, carrying the skirts in her hands, trying to hurry down the corridor.

They stopped in front of her rooms. A pair of pages was already unwrapping a big square covered in brown parchment paper, only stopping to greet their Queen.

As more and more paper fell onto the red carpet at Eddy's feet and several inches of painted canvas started to surface, the prince wondered what else they could have done with the gold that this painting had costed. Then, he shook his head. For someone who loved the arts so much, he was questioning its cost a lot.

When all the wrapping was off, Eddy was unable to look away from the canvas. Someone had drawn a split sky: one side covered in constellations he recognized from Brett's stories and another of a blue so bright, Eddy could barely look at it. Clouds unravelled at the bottom, some dark and puffy, others light and soft. And, in the base, the silhouette of a roof broke the bright colours of the landscape.

It didn't resemble his rooftop at all. That one was only big enough for two, and you could merely see the sky in the East. However, the prince wondered how fate pulled this trick.

"It's a little bigger than I thought," his mother complained at his side. "It won't fit on my rooms. Do you have any idea where I can hang it, Edward?" She looked expectantly at him, her chestnut hair swaying around her neck as she moved.

Eddy looked at her, a thought taking form in his head.

"Yes," he smiled. "I think I have."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm finally back here, thank gods!  
> School started, and I'm still trying to find where I can fit my writing hours without sacrificing my sacred sleep, but it's getting better.  
> Stay safe, and, if you went back to school like me, my condolences.   
> I hoped you liked this chapter! We will be back with Brett's POV next time, so ready your hearts! As always, thank you so much for leaving kudos and commenting, I love talking with you <3   
> See you next chapter!


	13. Close

A week had passed at Chen Palace when Brett realized he fell into a routine.

It was oddly astounding - after years of going up and down the same flights of stairs, carrying the same tray, with the same tea, for the same people, every day - how easily he adjusted to this new cycle.

He got used to dinners with the royal family and to staying awake until the soft snores of his stepfather filled the room they shared. He got used to waking up to the footsteps of the pages in the early morning, to sharing his breakfast with his family instead of watching them eat. He got used to being even quieter than before, even more invisible. He got used to rapidly following Sophie out of the guests' rooms when she came to take the dirty crockery back to the kitchen, right before his sisters began their daily rambling about walks, clothes and the prince. He got used to spending the days in the music room, and to the people who sometimes joined him. 

He met Philip, and they spent a couple of mornings at the sound of Debussy (whose discs Sophie had found), Brett listening to the piano, and Philip immersed in his books. Being with the older prince was inexplicably natural. He looked a lot like Eddy. They had the same eye-wrinkling smile, the same soft tone to their voices, and the habit of absently chewing their thumbnails. However, Philip's hair was longer, and his greenish eyes didn't need glasses. He was also always curled in pillows and thick layers of cloth, whereas Eddy wore the minimum amount of clothes possible, and kept his back straight - habits Brett supposed he had acquired during the years in the border. And, even if Brett was not as reserved with him as with the others, he never asked Philip a question.

With Eddy, however, Brett didn't think twice anymore. 

They spent the afternoons side by side, surrounded by the discs they had considered and discarded, in their alternative universe of music. In that evening, they listened to Julia Krasko, and Eddy softly swung at the sound of Liebeslied.

It always amazed Brett how transparent and open Eddy was about himself. He was never afraid of speaking up to his brother, to his parents, to Mr Lin and his daughters. Eddy danced and hummed to the pieces they listened to, wept and laughed without restrain. Brett hoped he could be like that one day, to be able to laugh and cry without fear. He wished he could be familiar with his own smile, solely too see Eddy beam back at him every time.

The violin in his ears softened and softened, the piece slowly coming to an end, the notes melting into each other. Eddy sighed, content, and silence filled the room. The sun painted the music room yellow and orange, and golden dust fell around them.

Brett turned to Eddy, intending to ask if they could play Beethoven again, but the words died his lips. Because, when he opened his eyes to Eddy's rosed cheeks and ruffled hair, it hit him.

\---

They were so  _ close _ .

\---

_ They were so close. _

_ Why were they?  _

_ Brett never let someone this close. _

_ It was dangerous, so dangerous.  _

_ Hadn't Brett learned his lesson? _

_ \--- _

"Brett. Brett!" Eddy's mouth shaped. Brett shook his head, and his eyes focused on the prince's confused and worry-filled ones. "What's wrong? Can I get you something?" His voice was also troubled, soaked in preoccupation, that both made Brett guilty and comforted.

Brett saw the prince's hand on his lap, itching to touch him, but- But staying in place.

_ Oh. _

_ Eddy won't come closer. _

Of course not. Even when Brett and Eddy sat together, only a centimetre apart, he never touched him, never reached out without warning or without giving Brett time to move away. 

He wouldn't hurt him.

Brett closed his eyes, and a sigh - half realization half relieve, and because he had temporarily forgotten how to breathe - left his lungs. He buried his tear-stained face on the crook of his elbow.

He was so  _ stupid  _ \- why would he ever doubt Eddy? Eddy, who kept his promises, answered his questions and smiled at him? 

Then Brett felt so relieved. So  _ safe _ .

"Brett?" A whisper. He felt the prince shifting around him, still away, not touching. Not until Brett let him. Not until it was okay.

Brett unfolded his arm, stretching his hand, without looking up. In a millisecond, Eddy's fingers were squeezing his - long, warm, and reassuring.

_ Safe. _

\---

They stayed in silence for a long time. When Brett finally lifted his head, the night had stolen all the light, and the room around him took dim and unfamiliar shapes.

Yet, Eddy was still there, stroking the back of his hand with his thumb, his eyes dark and concerned. When Brett glanced at him, he gave him a small smile. A silent question.

"I'm fine," Brett said, his voice hoarse and choked. "Better than ever." Eddy let out a quiet laugh, clearly doubting him, not moving his eyes away. "Thank you again."

The prince shook his head, dismissing it. A cold wind reached them from the open window, but none of them moved to close it. "I think we skipped dinner, but I can ask Sophie for something if you want." 

Brett nodded. "That would be nice. But I don't want to cause-" Eddy shushed him.

"You never cause us any trouble, Brett Yang," he murmured. "Come on." He pulled him to his feet and, with a final squeeze, let go of his hand. Brett tried not to feel disappointed by it. 

The prince closed the windows and the curtains before opening the door to leave. Then, he turned his head towards Brett, who was still standing against the wall, his now too cold hand inside his pocket. 

"I got a surprise for you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was so hard to write this! I rewrote the close part three times before I was satisfied, so I hope you liked it!  
> Prelude is out and - my gods - I've not listened to anything else in the past hour. It's magnificent, art at its fullest.  
> I hope you're all safe and happy! I wish you all the best in the world, my amazing readers.  
> See you next chapter!


	14. Dreams

In the following morning, Brett woke up in a different bedroom. 

In place of a green and white ceiling, dark-blue velvet covered him, only broken by the gilt chandelier hovering over Brett's bed. Little golden cherubs hanged among the chandelier's arms, endlessly playing and laughing, some of them flying hand by hand, suspended by strings Brett couldn't see in the gloom of dawn.

When he sat with his back to the bed headboard, an enormous painting greeted him from across the room - a roof underneath a split sky. The night half was of a blue so deep it melted with the walls, and the day would probably match the landscape outside of the window in a few hours.

Brett smiled at the canvas. Eddy was so excited to show it to him last night Brett still had his grin stamped behind his eyelids.

"Come on!" the prince had said, guiding him to the opposite side of the palace.

"Eddy!" Brett had protested, panting from running down and upstairs. He had no idea of where they were heading because he used to stay between the dining room, the guests' rooms and Eddy's. "My room is in the East Wing! Where are we going?"

Eddy only smiled and continued to run, apparently not comprehending that Brett did _ not _ have the stamina of a soldier. "Your  _ family _ 's rooms are in the East Wing. Your room," he announced, turning to an unexpectedly familiar corridor. "Is here."

They stopped in the middle of the hallway, next to a painting of a horse. Eddy opened a door, revealing a bedroom with shiny furniture and indigo walls.

"Wait," Brett murmured. "Isn't this-?"

But it couldn't be. The last time Brett had entered this room, it only had hidden sofas and a dusty carpet. Not that he remembered much. He and Eddy were to busy hiding from guards at the time.

"This used to be a living room for the Council members, but they moved to your wing some years ago, and don't use it anymore, so I asked if we could turn it into another guest room, because, with you here, we don't have much more space left." Eddy suddenly looked slightly flustered, with a shy smile and a careful voice tone. Brett looked at him, surprised, but delighted. 

"Shouldn't Christina be the one taking it?"

Eddy looked away, shrugging. "That's why I'm giving it to you first." 

Brett couldn't help but think that he would be in big trouble when his father found out, but for then, with Eddy by his side, that thought didn't affect is growing smile at all.

Nor did it affect it in the next morning. 

The only thing that pulled present-Brett out of his daydreaming was a firm knock on the room's door. Two seconds later, it was already bursting open.

A girl entered the room with a messy bow. When she looked up, a crooked smile played in her lips. Curly stray strands of dark hair escaped her tight braids and framed her freckled face. Her stormy green eyes examined Brett one, two, three times, before she spoke- yelled.

"Breakfast!" Her voice ringed in the quiet room, fierce and clear. A tray suddenly appeared behind her, and, before Brett could open his mouth to speak, she shoved a hot teacup into his hands. A strong scent of lemon filled the man's nostrils. "My name is Arya! I'm the maid-in-training," she continued without taking a breath. "It'll be a pleasure to serve you today!" She gave him another short bow, before running back to her tray car for some biscuits.

"Thank you," Brett muttered, overwhelmed by the girl. She gave him a grin so big it competed with Eddy's.

"What's your name?" she asked, standing next to the end of the bed, fidgeting.

"I'm Brett-"

"Yang?" she completed with another smile. Her heels bounced on the carpet, making her stand on her toes. "You came here with prince Eddy's bride, right? Are you her brother? You look alike. Why did you come here?"

Despite her questions, Arya didn't seem to want to slow down enough for Brett's answers, so he just sipped his tea and listening to her ramble.

"I came here because I have a dream, you see? I want to live in a castle of my own one day." Her eyes were almost sparkling with excitement, and she danced around the room while she spoke. "Mum said that being a maid was the farthest I could go, but she doesn't know anything. I will work so hard, I will make tons of money in no time, and then I can buy my castle. Do you have a dream too?"

"Hum-"

"I also want to have a dog. Miss Sophie said she had one once, and he was the most beautiful thing I could ever imagine. Do you know Miss Sophie too? She is so great, isn't she? We share the same room, and sometimes she lets me borrow her clothes. Did you know she learned the piano? When I have my castle, I want to learn the piano too!" At that moment, she seemed to remember something. "Oh- Miss Sophie said that I shouldn't stay here for so long. Bye, Brett! See you tomorrow!"

And, just like that, she was gone as loudly as she arrived, skilfully pushing her tray through the door. Brett heard her playful laugh as she ran down the corridor and smiled.

Outside the window, the sun rose, and the palace came back to life.

\---

"Do you have a dream?" Brett asked.

"Hum?" Eddy raised his eyebrows behind a spoon full of chicken. They were having lunch in the prince's room, because, at the moment, Brett was keen on avoiding his father as much as possible. 

If Brett had thought that his room was big, it was because he hadn't seen Eddy's yet. It was almost a house. It had a bedroom, with enough space for a small orchestra, and a dressing room - where the valet (Nico, who seemed only a couple years older than Arya) was taking new jackets off of their packages and hanging them in the wardrobe. There also was a living room with a monstrous fireplace and a dark wooden table. It probably meant to house card games, but Brett and Eddy were using it to eat the stew Sophie had brought them with a simulated exasperated expression and a wink at Brett. Everything was in tones of grey and golden, with dark marble floors where the carpets didn't reach.

"Well... do you have anything you know you're hardly going to get, but you desire it anyway?" Brett's questions weren't usually this personal, and he was painfully aware of that, but Arya's words had turned a switch on his head. Eddy - thank gods - didn't seem bothered at all by it. Just curious, by the glint in his eyes. 

He considered the question for a while, contemplatively chewing his carrots. All his other greens were left, forgotten, in the edges of his plate. "I've always wanted to go to the moon. You know, fly out of this planet and touch the stars." He had the same expression as the maid girl, but a little bit bitterer. "It's impossible, I know, but-" he shrugged. "What about you?"

Brett's smile at Eddy's response transformed into an embarrassed smirk. Honestly, he hadn't got much time to think about dreams and wishes in the past years.

"When I was a kid, I wanted to play the violin. In an orchestra, if I could." Eddy gave him his best impression of a goldfish, opening and closing his mouth without a word. "What?" Brett laughed, scrapping the back of his neck and glancing away.

"Do you play the violin?" the prince managed to blurt out.

"I used to. My best friends taught me. I haven't in a couple of years." Brett shrugged.

"You have to play something for me!" 

Brett looked at Eddy with wide, incredulous eyes. His enthusiasm was palpable. "I haven't played in years! I can't play for the  _ prince _ !"

Unfortunately, Eddy was the most stubborn person Brett had ever known (and he cohabited with Annabell for the whole 16 years she lived).

"Please? Pretty please? Come on, just one piece! A minuet, even a scale. You need the practice if you want to play with an orchestra!" Eddy pleaded.

Brett shook his head. "If I wanted to play with an orchestra, I would have to practice 14 hours a day."

Eddy pouted dramatically - and it was no one's business if it made Brett's guts feel like goo. "With that attitude of yours, 14 hours won't do. You would have to play 40." Brett didn't know who Eddy was trying to impersonate, but it sounded awfully like his mother whenever he forgot to do his homework or came back home with trousers covered in mud from playing in the garden with Ray.

"Practice 40 hours a day?" Brett laughed.

"That's right. You better pick up the violin right now!" The shorter man rolled his eyes - something he picked up from Eddy and would probably earn him some hours in the attic if he ever did it to anyone but him. "Come on. I will play with you!"

Now it was Brett's turn to gap at him. "You play too?"

"I used to. Before the military."

Brett sighed, closing his eyes so he wouldn't see the hopeful excitement in Eddy's. "Fine," he conceded. "But you will play for me too." He didn't remember the last time he asked someone for something so directly.

Eddy's smile pushed his cheeks to his eyes. "Promise."

Two plates of stew were disregarded, left under the afternoon sunlight, as Brett and Eddy flew to the music room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the second chapter of the day! And last, unfortunately. *Wipes sweat off my forehead.*  
> I hoped you liked this chapter! It was a bit longer than usual, but I didn't want to cut it, so here you go.  
> Stay safe and well, all of you. Much love for you!  
> See you next chapter!


	15. Dread

As always, Eddy led the way, making great use of all those years of military training running across the few hallways that connected the royal rooms and the music room just under it. Brett sweated behind him, gasping inaudible complains at the slender shoulders ahead of him, that just shook in laughter.

Brett was so focused on not losing track of Eddy that he barely noticed when the prince came to a halt on the bottom of the stairs, just barely managing to stop his momentum and avoid crashing against Eddy. He regained his balance with an awkward twist, leaning on the golden handrail.

"Sir Doyle," he heard Eddy saying, his tone careful and overly polite. Brett made a face at it. He didn't like Eddy's prince face - the one he used when he talked to his father and the Council members. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

An elegant and affected laugh ringed in the large corridor. Brett peeked over Eddy's shoulder and found a man curiously eyeing him back, his thin eyebrows raised. His silver hair - carefully brushed backwards - shinned under the sunlight and wrinkles framed his eyes and his mouth like parenthesis. Blue eyes glared critically at Eddy behind a pair of pince-nez glasses.

"Your Royal Highness," he greeted with a tip of irony on his words. "And... Who can this be?"

Brett carefully slid out of Eddy's protective shadow, sensing the prince tensing up at his movement. "Brett Yang. Sir-?"

"William Doyle," the man responded, with a half-smile that made Brett's hair stand on end. He raised a gloved hand, that Brett carefully shook, holding his breath as if expecting a bomb to detonate.

"It's a pleasure," Brett faintly said, and, by the way his heart resounded in his ears, it was a miracle that his voice didn't shake.

Eddy was still stiff at his side, but his voice was emotionless when he spoke. "Is there any problem, Sir?"

"Your Highness, why do you think I always bring bad news?" Doyle gave a small chuckle. "You'll certainly be glad to hear that the preparations to retake Fort Charlie are going strong and smoothly."

Eddy's shoulders relaxed a bit, and Brett saw him briefly closing his eyes, taking the news with visible relieve. "Thank you, Sir. I'll be sure to check the details with Warrant Officer Nunez." Doyle's eyes sparkled with amusement, and his chapped lips curled as if Eddy had just told the funniest joke he had ever heard.

"Don't you find it funny?" he almost whispered, with a mischievous tone in his voice, and Brett shivered. His stepfather's belt could be severe, but he had the dreadful impression that this man's words could drag him down twice as quickly and leave their marks for much longer. "Your Highness, isn't your appetite for blood  _ hilarious _ ?"

All the colours left Eddy's face, only to return furiously, tinting his cheeks and ears red. "What do you mean, Doyle?" His voice wasn't toneless anymore. Brett could hear the badly-contained impatience and the underlying anger on Eddy's words.

It terrified Brett more than anything William Doyle could say.

"You know," the man was still talking, sharp and deviant. "Your Highness insists so persistently on ending the war at all costs, even if it costs us our gold, our men and our honour, and is still the first to send his so beloved people into death's arms."

Eddy almost jumped, and Brett feared for Doyle's throat, but the prince caught himself in time. "You don't know what you're talking about!" the prince shouted. His brows came closer in a frown, and his hands became fists.

Brett wanted to run.

He wanted to turn around and go back to Eddy's rooms, and hopefully find him there:  _ his _ Eddy, the one that spoke softly and took his hand when he asked.

Instead, Brett stayed.

He could feel his lunch in the back of his throat and his heart pounding against his ribcage, but he stood his ground.

Doyle smiled at the prince, looking like an eagle eyeing its prey. "Can you be the peacemaker and the commander at the same time, Your Highness?" He sounded so entertained, enjoying the pure fury in Eddy's eyes.

Fear was burning in Brett's stomach, but, now, so was his blood.

"Doyle, you have no idea, no right-" Eddy was shouting, and even Brett could hear how desperate he sounded, behind his fury and sadness.

Dread twisted his guts, but Brett set his jaw and looked into the ice-cold eyes in front of him with a certainty he didn't know he could manage.

"Sir Doyle, Sir." His voice was soft. Softer than Brett intended, but he was using all the force he could to keep his legs from shaking. "I'm sure you understand how important Edward's plans are?"

The smile in the other's lips died a little, and his eyebrows arched in surprise. "I'm sorry?"

"I said-" Brett gulped. There was no going back now. "You certainly know the importance of a good strategist on moments like this." He didn't dare to look at Eddy. If he moved his eyes from the glacier in front of him, he would break down. "Eddy has only shown how much he values his soldier's lives until now. The number of losses in our side is undoubtedly lower since he joined the ranks. Am I wrong?" By now, Brett's saliva was acid. He didn't give Doyle time to do anything but open his mouth before speaking again, spilling everything word out before his lunch did. "We all want to keep everyone safe and healthy, and Edward proved he is the best man for the job. And, if your best strategist is telling you with all his might that peace is our best option, I would assume he is right. Don't you want the best for this Kingdom's people, Sir Doyle?"

Brett's breath ended with his words. He didn't dare to move any other muscle and prayed Doyle couldn't see the terror inside him.

But the Sir only stared at him, shocked in place, an indignant frown on his face.

Brett could feel it, could see it behind the frozen wall that the man wore. He sensed the working mind of a man whose authority he just threatened, and his scars felt like fire on his back and chest, a grim reminder of the consequences those menaces had brought him over and over again.

Then he remembered Eddy's voice, stuttering, pained and  _ beaten _ , and wasn't able to regret any word he had just said.

But his stomach wasn't getting any calmer, so he needed to get out of there  _ fast _ .

"If you will excuse us," he said. And, with a tense nod, he tugged on Eddy's sleeve and willed his legs to move. Sweat bathed his back, and his hands were trembling so hard he had to shove them into his pockets to make it stop, but they were already leaving that doomed corridor and going down the stairs to the ground floor.

Brett didn't stop moving until he passed the back doors, and then the garden gate, with its iron embellishments and colourful national flags. He rigidly walked until will everything was too blurred by tears for him to see the way and his guts gave in.

When he finally stood up again, his mouth tasted terrible, and his eyes were dry. He found Eddy roaming nearby the gates, his jacket matching the shrub fence. The prince rubbed his face with his hands in distress, and Brett felt another twist in his now-empty stomach for making his friend feel that bad.

"Hey," he called, as gently as he could. It was weird. Eddy was the one who tirelessly comforted him, not the other way around. "You okay?"

His voice sounded low in the deserted garden, but Eddy heard him, and almost ran in his direction, with a face that was a mix of worry, sadness and shock.

It happened quickly.

"Brett, what was  _ that _ ?" Eddy yelled, stopping right in front of him. Brett took a step back, involuntarily flinching at the scream, eyes closing and arms already getting up to shield himself.

He felt stupid right after. It was Eddy, by all the gods, not his stepfather, not even Doyle. Why, after all this time in peace, next to someone that made him feel safe, why was he going back to his old habits?

Why was he running, why was he flinching, why was he raising his arms?

Then, he opened his eyes, and the look on Eddy's face made everything much,  _ much _ worse.

It was all wide eyes, tight lips, and limbs suspended in mid-action. Brett couldn't read it, couldn't see if it was fury, or hesitation, or worry. It scared him - it scared so much - because Eddy was always so easy to read, so open.

"I'm- I'm sorry, Brett," the prince quaked, slowly retrieving. "Maybe... Maybe it's better if I go."

As Eddy wistfully walked out of the garden, the fading sunlight caressing his back, Brett couldn't help but feel like he had made a big mistake.

\---

Brett didn't remember how he got to his bedroom, but, somehow, he ended up neatly tucked in his bed with a cup of tea in hand.

Arya fumbled through the drawers of her car, digging out something Brett registered as syrup out of a box of flasks filled with multicoloured liquids. She was oddly quiet, but her voice still held a happy note as she dropped some medicine in Brett's cup.

"You have to be more careful, now, Mr Yang." She swiftly put down the glass bottle and handed the man a silver teaspoon. "Fall is coming, and you can't be sick! You will lose all the fun!"

Brett just hummed in agreement and lazily mixed his tea. The fragrant vapour made his eyes heavy with sleep, especially now that all the adrenaline had already left his body. Images of Doyle and Eddy still flooded his head, but, at that moment, he just wanted to sleep it out.

"Now, now," Arya giggled. "Drink your tea before you fall asleep on it. Your stomach doesn't have anything a good night of sleep, and my medicine, can't cure." Brett took a sip and made a face, making the little maid sigh. "I know the taste isn't the best, but Mom told me that I couldn't add sugar."

"Thanks," Brett muttered. Arya took the mug from his hands and commanded him to lay down, and Brett obliged.

Soon enough, his mind settled, and he fell into a dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is the longest I've ever written, and I don't regret anything.  
> I know the angst isn't the best for our pained hearts, but Brett and Eddy need to take some time to think of how their lives will change now that they know each other. And to realize how they feel about each other if you know what I mean ;)  
> Thank you so much for reading! See you next chapter <3


	16. Dawn

On the first day, Brett woke up to Arya and Sophie discussing by his door.

"If he is sick, it'll be better if he stays here," Arya was whispering. Her low tone didn't make her sound any less annoyed.

"Don't you think it's better if we call a doctor?" Sophie susurrated back, making Brett feel a little guilty at her concerned tone.

When Arya responded, he could almost hear the childish frown on her face. "Soph, my syrups have cured half the colds and flu in this place, yours included. It's nothing I can't take care of."

"Are you sure? Eddy would be beyond mad if something bad happened to him."

"Of cour- Oh, Brett," the little maid approached him with a sweet - and blurry because Brett wasn't wearing his glasses - smile. "See, you woke him up," she complained to Sophie, who sighed and left the room with a friendly nod in Brett's direction. Arya shook her head. "I swear to the gods, Soph. Sometimes, you worry too much."

"Is everything okay?" Brett asked, his voice still hoarse from sleeping.

"Never better. You slept for almost 14 hours, so my tea worked." She opened the curtains, and the midday sun almost blinded Brett. "It's better if you stay indoors during the rest of the day, though. It's starting to get cold outside."

She continued to wander around the room, carrying blankets and pillows. Without stopping her ramble for a minute, she fed Brett some bread and cheese, followed by two spoonfuls of medicine that smelled of summer and tasted just as good.

"And that's how Belle got married. Now she even has a little daughter! She is so cute! I heard they are planning on coming here next week." She gave a satisfied sigh and readied her tray to leave the room. "Try to get some rest, Brett. I'll be back with dinner in a few hours."

"Thanks," Brett muttered, not sure if Arya could hear from outside the fort of pillows and mattresses she buried him in. He tried to relax, glancing at the chandelier above him.

Rays of sunlight made the golden cherubs shine, and he smiled at them. Brett had always prefered the sun to the moon. He loved going outside and bathe in the sunlight, letting it warm him to the bone. He liked the way it painted the vernal gardens green, red and yellow. Without the sun, there wouldn't be colour, and there wouldn't be life.

He shuffled around in his castle of pillows, and it only took a moment for sleep to take him away again.

\---

On the second day, Brett sat by the window of his bedroom, from where he could see how the royal garden reached the horizon. A dozen of gardeners shuffled around the bushes and trees, apparating stray branches and watering flowers. Brett also saw several Court members around (he passed so much time in the Palace he was starting to recognize them by now), and his family also made its entrance. For his surprise, Christina and Annabell walked by the sides of Sir William, Mr Lin closely following them. Just the sight of them made a shiver run down Brett's spine, even if they were way too distant to harm him.

It's dreadful, almost, how little control he has over himself. How some provocative words or too-fast movements can make him tremble and break. How something that isn't there can turn him into fine china, and shatter him with the sheer force of fear.

However, instead of walking away from the window, Brett set his feet and didn't move his eyes. He was expecting his stomach to do some more somersaults in panic, but, instead, the same sensation that assaulted him on the previous day returned.

Eddy's broken yells filled his ears again and a slow - but indisputable -  _ anger  _ boiled his blood.

Why, of all things, were these people - who treated Eddy like he was nothing more than a piece in a big table game - why was Brett letting them hurt and use him? Why couldn't he stop them from harming the person who reminded him of the meaning and value of safety and trust?

This bitterness and anger accompanied him throughout the whole afternoon and night, long after Christina, Annabel, Doyle and Mr Lin retreated to the Palace. Brett felt asleep on the same spot by the windowsill and only woke up with the pale early light.

Then, he looked again at the garden, covered in the gloom of dawn, and realized that the resentment in his guts had turned into steel-like resolve.

He didn't want to survive at the expense of his stepfather. He couldn't let his family have so much power over him. If he lived caged in that dependency, he would never be able to stand by Eddy.

Because Brett finally understood. What he most wanted right now was to be by Eddy's side. He wanted to feel needed and safe, to protect and care. Brett wanted to share more stories under the moonlight and pieces in the music room for hours on end. He craved to shield Eddy from the greed of others and to play the violin with him. And if for that, Brett needed to cut everything between him and his family, then Brett would do it without a second thought.

He smiled, thinking of the possibilities. Maybe he could get a job and a house of his own. He could sleep in every day and play the violin again. His fingertips ached at the thought. He could visit Othela, where Ray travelled to perform, or Aspen, to spend some time in the countryside and see the mountains.

If only he stopped being afraid of his family, Brett would be able to do anything he wanted.

However, to fill the missing part in the puzzle of his dream future, he needed to talk to someone first.

\---

On the dawn of the third day, Brett left his room and headed for the gardens, where a prince awaited his return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have school tomorrow and need to wake up in 5 hours, but will that stop from finishing this chapter?  
> Well- no. Not really.  
> This chapter was a character development bomb. Brett is growing his wings, my lovely readers, and he's ready to fly!  
> Next time, we will have Eddy's big brain time!  
> Also, we reached 20 thousand words of 'Cinderella'! :O  
> Have a lovely week and stay safe, y'all. See you next chapter!


	17. Cost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for depictions of violence  
> If you feel somewhat uncomfortable with these topics, you can skip the section between "Taking back Fort Alfa only went well because Mary and Hannah had a talent for blowing doors open" and "That was what war meant." Thank you! Have a lovely reading!

Eddy carefully walked away from Brett.

It was the best option: Brett was shaken by whatever had just happened. He was scared and needed some time. It was a reasonable choice to go away.

_ Wasn't it? _

\---

Eddy didn't remember how he got to his bedroom, but, somehow, he ended up yelling into his pillow in exasperation with Philip shaking his head by his side.

"And he looked at that jerk dead in the eye and with the  _ calmest voice _ I have  _ ever _ heard- don't shake your head like that Phil, it was  _ scary _ ! He just started lecturing Doyle like it was normal! Sweet and soft Brett! You should have seen it- it was  _ horrific.  _ Doyle will  _ kill _ him!"

"Eddy," Philip called, in the same tone he used when Eddy zoned out in the middle of some princely event, or when lost his cool over some foolish remark. "Calm down. Freaking out won't help any-"

"Doyle will  _ end _ him!" Eddy was screaming, already getting up, frantically walking around his bed. "What will I  _ do _ if Brett-"

"Eddy!" his brother yelled, immediately coughing after. Eddy shut up immediately, guilt burning his throat, already running up to him. "Stop- cough- Stop screaming around! Cough cough- You won't  _ solve _ anything. Cough- Gods damn it..."

"Sorry," Eddy muttered, as Philip slowly forced his lungs back into his control. He sat down on the edge of his bed, willing his shoulders to relax.

"Look," Philip continued, more softly. "Whatever happened today, you will figure it out, and you will solve it. Doyle can't do anything to Brett, even if he wanted to. Right?"

"Right," Eddy sighed.

The older brother smiled and ruffled Eddy's hair. "Good. Now, I would love to talk about whatever Brett did with you, but we have a lot to discuss first."

That made Eddy's head jump up again. "Did something bad happen?"

"No, everything is fine. Mostly," Philip murmured, not reassuring the prince at all. He rummaged through his pockets, taking out a yellow envelope with a familiar green emblem on the seal.

"News from the border?" he guessed, picking the envelope from Philip's extended hand. "Is this about Fort Charlie?"

"From what I heard, yes. The Council already read the message, but I managed to snatch it for you to read before they could stop me." Philip smiled tightly. "They didn't want you to interfere again, the same old egoistic bastards."

Eddy huffed in agreement. "Thanks. Is there anything else I can help with?"

"Well, this month's income reports are arriving in half an hour or so. Can you catch the postman before Doyle does? When he gets them first, it's always a pain in the neck to make him give it back," Philip complained, crossing his arms. "Even if  _ I _ am officially responsible for checking the Kindom's income."

Eddy arched his eyebrows. "Is Doyle even allowed to prevent you from getting them first?" Philip laughed bitterly at that.

"He is Father's best friend. There isn't much he can't do around here." Philip's words send a shiver down Eddy's spine and left a bitter taste in his tongue. "Even though I'm sure that he is capable of much worse than what he is openly responsible for."

Eddy arched his eyebrows. "What's that supposed to mean?" he murmured.

"Well," Philip sighed. "He has a lot of power over the people. Not like you or Father, not even because he is close to the Royal Family. A lot of families have enormous debts to his: money, jobs, houses. And I would have to be blind not to notice how much money he earns, even if what we get is getting smaller by the day. I don't know what he is up to, but getting him out of his position is much harder than what most people think. If we bring him down, he will drag half of Thoele's families with him. He is a master of blackmail, threats and all other kinds of fishy business. And no one whose words have enough power to make any difference is willing to complain." Philip sighed. "At this point, he would have to do something truly awful to give anyone a good enough excuse to put him away without that much harm to everyone else."

Hearing his brother, Eddy suddenly felt very tired. Being a prince sucked by itself - but having to deal with problems where all he could do was wait and hope - well, that was three times worse. He hugged his pillow, sinking his nose on the soft fabric. "So- there's nothing we can do?" His voice was small, nothing more than a breath.

Philip slowly got up. "Not about him, not for now. But I'm sure we will find a way around it." He patted Eddy's back and headed out. "I will be in my room if you need anything, alright?"

"'Right."

"Goodnight, Eddy."

"'Night, Phil."

\---

_ To King Ivor Chen, the Royal Council and the Royal Army's officers to whom this matter concerns, _

_ The operation to take back Fort Charlie is going as well as it can. We were able to gather the necessary material for a raid in the U formation, as the one used last December- _

Eddy hummed in dissatisfaction, quickly scanning the letter as he went down the stairs to the garden. There was just enough light for him to make up the dark words in the thick paper.

He shook his head to himself as he read Nunez's plan. That man was a prodigy in almost everything, but he couldn't plan an attack for the life of him. He was using one of Eddy's old tactics, probably because the Officer himself knew his weaknesses better than anyone. However, Eddy's gut knew that using the same plan twice was a bad ideal. Fatal, even.

After so many years fighting Blakworth, the prince quickly noticed how easily all their soldiers adapted to their advances. That's was one of the reasons why his plans had so many phases. They merged into each other in a way that made the enemies confused and slow, rather than an easy and straightforward attack, where Blackworth's force would have the upper hand.

This particular method was one of Eddy's simplest inventions, and it had only worked due to sheer luck. They had used in the last December - when Eddy and about fifty other soldiers were coming back to Fort Alpha after a successful excursion. They expected a celebration with all their friends and a good night of sleep. However, the only soldiers who greeted them back were Blackworth's pawns, dressed in the red of Eddy's comrades' blood.

That night, Eddy was fortunate that they still had a considerable amount of powder with them, and that his squad was with him, and that their enemies were tired and unsuspecting. Taking back Fort Alfa only went well because Mary and Hannah had a talent for blowing doors open and, of course, because Ash took down almost 40 men with their arrows, with Eddy protecting him, before a woman drenched in blood killed him.

In the dark of night, the prince can still remember her face, her clenched teeth and stormy-grey eyes as he cut her throat in a too late payback. He also remembers Ash's tear-stained face on his lap, as they clutched a broken bow to their open chest, and their last shaky breath, lost in the freezing night. The result of their final mission to the Kingdom.

That was what war meant. That was what war costed. Lives, friends and family, a growing hunger around the nation and an infinite feeling of helplessness.

The prince fought back the tears as he approached the stables, where the postman, as Philip had said, awaited with a wad of paper in his hands. After a quick check to confirm that they were the reports he needed, he ran back to his room.

Nunez hadn't been there in December. He didn't know how bad this would go. It was time for the prince to make a new plan.

\---

Eddy took the shortest path to this room through the page's passages, inside the walls that divided the royal halls. He passed a couple of boys carrying laundry, dismissing their bows with a smile, and bumped with little Arya and her tray a few turns later. When the girl realized who he was, she didn't waste her breath.

"Prince Edward!" she beamed. "What are you doing here? Isn't it late? Do you need anything?" Eddy didn't even try to reply. He knew that Arya wouldn't stop talking until she asked what she truly wanted him to answer. A sudden glint in her eyes and her curling mouth announced the question before her words. "Are you on your way to see Brett?"

Eddy's eyes widened. 'Right,' he thought. 'Brett sleeps in this wing now.' "Not really, but now- Is he in his room?"

Arya's smile grew even more as she nodded. "Make sure you don't wake him up, okay? See you!" She walked away, pushing her tray with one hand and enthusiastically waving with the other.

"Bye.." Eddy whispered. He entered the main corridor and silently opened the door to Brett's room.

He didn't see the man at first, just the mountain of pillows and comforters surrounding him. Eddy walked up to see the mop of dark hair that peeked through the soft fabrics. Giggling, he pushed some of the blankets away, getting the other some space to breathe. He found Brett sleeping soundly underneath, curled around some more pillows. His eyes were still puffy and red, and Eddy's smile faltered a little.

He extended a hand thoughtlessly, brushing away stray hair strands from Brett's forehead. He sighed in his sleep, his head leaning onto Eddy's fingers, making the prince's skin burn like fireworks. Brett's movement made his baggy shirt slide down his neck. The prince's eyes caught the dark patches of skin on the back of his shoulders and the scarred skin above his backbone.

Eddy's hand clenched into a fist as anger filled his veins. The now-familiar rage towards the Lins took away his breath for a moment, and he sat down on the bed, glancing away from Brett.

It hadn't taken much time for Eddy to put two and two together. To notice the furious redness behind Mr Lin's neck every once in a while, his barked orders and stern comments, Christina's pointed glares and Annabell's frowns. It took less to connect them to the purplish bruises Brett - almost - managed to cover, with his sleeves or under a turtleneck, to his gaunt libs and his limping on the first days around. Why he was so silent and nervous when they weren't alone. Why he ate like he had a black hole for a stomach. Why he was afraid of asking questions at first. Possibly why Brett had left the ball at midnight in such a hurry all those weeks ago. It made him want to kick the Lins out of the palace. Out of the Kingdom, if he could. But then Brett would have to go too and be all alone with them - because Eddy couldn't really explain why he wanted only the person he couldn't marry to stay.

He huffed at himself. How could he rule a Kingdom if he couldn't do this? At least he could keep Brett as safe as possible. Eddy was glad he could at least sleep in his own room, in his own wing, and have somewhere to go where his family wouldn't find him. And Brett was feeling better, Eddy could see it. He opened up to him and smiled more often. Even  _ took Eddy's hand _ \- something that made the prince happier than he had been in the past weeks and set some animal free inside his stomach, what led him to believe he was enjoying Brett's company and friendship more than he should.

Eddy understood that Brett was strong - maybe more than anyone he had ever known. He knew it because of the way Brett still looked at his stepfather dead in the eye, or how he forced his leg to walk when Eddy could clearly see it ached, or how he had talked to Doyle-

The prince shivered at the memory. Brett's eyes had been void of any emotion. His voice was soft, but firm and demanding as Eddy had never heard it. For a moment, he could see Brett in the middle of the Council, silencing fifty men with a glance, making the King himself listen.

The prince had felt terrified. How could sweet and harmless Brett turn into such a heartless man in a heartbeat? It was hair-raising, but he couldn't pull his eyes away, because, behind Brett's deadpan face, Eddy could see the dread, much worse than his own. Despite it, Brett stood his ground while speaking to Doyle, and then pulled Eddy out if the corridor, and out of the palace, just crashing down when they already were in the garden. 

'Of course, doing something like that wouldn't do him any good,' Eddy thought, but it was somehow reassuring to know that Brett was still the same softhearted man Eddy had come to know, even if he kicked ass at roasting Council people.

In a way, it made Eddy treasure Brett even more.

\---

Trivia time!

**About the Royal Army**

Kingdom's Chen's Royal Army involves all soldiers and officers trained in the Royal Army Academy. In times of peace, they stay at the Army Houses spread around the Kingdom - the most of them being in Aspen.

During the war, they assert their positions in the forts beside the border. The main ones are known as Fort Alfa, Fort Beta and Fort Charlie, but there are smaller ones between them, where soldiers can rest and eat on their way to the biggest Forts.

Soldiers in the Royal Army are ranked based on their years of experience and overall performance in battle. The Warrant Officer is the higher position of the Army, followed by the Warrant Officer (Class 2), who can replace the first if they are incapable of fulfilling their role. There are also Sergeants, Corporals and Privates.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back, my lovely readers! I'm back and here to stay!  
> I'm so sorry for being away during this couple of weeks! My schoolwork was pilling up - still is :P - and, with so many exams and due dates coming up, I had barely time to breathe. However, half of my assignments and tests are done, so I will hopefully be posting chapters more regularly. Once my term is over, however, I will be able to write as I did back in August, so... keep an eye out for that. :D  
> Thank you all so much for sticking to this story for so long. It is still unreal to me how it was able to captivate so many people. I hope you're all staying safe and happy. Much love for you! See you next chapter! <3


	18. Council

Eddy stared at the city from his bedroom window. The mornings were arriving later with each day, but men and women still left their homes before dusk, ready to harvest the last pounds of rice of the season. The prince yawned, rubbing his eyes and getting up. It was a new day for him too, time for changing minds and ruling kingdoms and all that. With a last glance to the awaking city and distant fields, he left his room. 

This winter would be rough on the people. The war had destroyed the territory between the Rivers, so the fields near the zone produced less and less. This summer had been the worst so far.

It was one more reason why they shouldn't be fighting at all. The territory all this fight was about - that the King proclaimed that they needed so much - couldn't be planted. It would be  _ useless _ for the Chen Kingdom. They were fighting over  _ nothing _ . Moreover, all the men and women they were using could be working in the country fields, or studying, or travelling.

Every time Eddy thought about young recruits - Jackson, for example - a pang of fury and desperation broke his heart. So much of his soldiers were so strong and smart! The biggest hope of this country, the young who, just like him, could change the future of the nation, crushed by the decisions of men sitting on upholstered chairs. The warriors should be using their lives to study, work, spent time with their families, fall in love and be happy! They shouldn't carry the Kingdom's weight on their shoulders.

That was Eddy's job.

The prince clenched his jaw, pushing the door to the library with more force than necessary. He remembered a curious face with dark eyes and a breathtaking smile. 'Do you have a dream?' he had asked.

Eddy had so many when he was a kid. He would take his history classes with Philip and Belle and dream of making crops grow faster and creating cattle out of the grass. Eddy escaped to the city market with a young Sophie and hoped someone could help all the shivering children in the streets. He grew up, the war got worse, and he wished he could fight side by side with the soldiers, whose lives his father didn't seem to acknowledge. He graduated from the Academy as a determined and naive fighter, with the will-o'-the-wisp of bringing down his enemies.

He remembered the exact moment all his dreams shattered.

It was long before Ash died. Even before he even met them, or the twins, or Nunez. It was the moment Eddy realized how crucial it was for him to stop this war. It was the moment he realized the power carried by the word 'prince'. The day all his dreams turned into a necessity. And then to desperation.

\---

Kyle was a boy with red hair and a wild heart. He was the best in hand-to-hand combat in his Academy years and had bigger dreams than anyone. And he was Eddy's best friend.

They were the top of all their classes, Eddy with his calculated moves and precision and Kyle with his brute force and fast thinking. They met during the first year in the Army Academy and lived joined at the hip since that moment.

Kyle came from the north of Aspen, where the crops didn't grow anymore. The Kingdom took his parents away because they didn't have the money to pay taxes, and his older brother sent him to the Academy because he couldn't feed him. During the time the prince had known him, Kyle ached to take back his family's lands and build his new life from the ashes, and Eddy wanted to help him.

They shared meals, classes and whispered conversations after the curfew. They shared a vision of defeating Blackworth (if they just combined their skills, instead of using them against each other as their teachers insisted). They shared a tent in excursions and smelly uniforms. They shared tight hugs and hidden kisses by the moonlight.

Eddy and Kyle would win this war and rule the world.

But they didn't.

\---

Eddy remembered the exact moment all his dreams shattered.

Back home, the church bells announced midnight, but, in the middle of a deserted battlefield, after their first mission, a broken prince ran towards a broken boy with a body painted the same colour as his hair. Later, everyone would say that there was nothing the prince could have done. That Kyle died like a hero, saving dozens of other soldiers after following his instincts. None of that mattered to Eddy.

Kyle had the biggest dreams, and still took all of Eddy's with a trembling smile and a last goodbye.

\---

"Eddy?"

The prince looked up from the rosed carpet at his feet, finding Philip's worried eyes searching his face. "Hum?"

"Are you okay?" his brother asked, furrowing his brows and putting down his book. "You zoned out for a little there."

Eddy shook his head to clear his thoughts. "Yeah, yeah, of course, just- Thinking about the border, you know?"

A glint of surprise passed in Philip's expression. "Sure, sure," he nodded. 

Well, Philip didn't know, not really. Sometimes, Eddy envied that his brother carried an easier burden: instead of going to the Army with him, or getting involved in international politics, like Belle, he stayed in Aspen, taking care of the expenses of the Kingdom. For him, the war was an inconvenience for the economy and a blow for the population. He had the best of intentions, but he never felt the terror that approaching enemies brought, never saw his comrades succumbing by his sides or watched his best friend die in his arms.

Then, Eddy mentally slapped himself, and just felt glad that Philip would never have to deal with all that pain and fear.

"I brought the reports you asked for." Eddy walked into the library, handing a smiling Philip the stack of papers.

"Thanks," he said, quickly scanning the first pages. "Oh, look at that. How convenient is it that the incomes are much larger every month Doyle doesn't grab them before I do?" He laughed bitterly. "As if we didn't have enough problems without the jerk interfering." Philip sighed, closing his eyes for an instant. "Thanks a lot, Eddy. This will make a big difference for the people."

"No problem," Eddy muttered. "I'm just upset that we can't do anything to completely stop Doyle."

"I know, I know. But we will. You'll see." Philip glanced at the numbers again, a smile on his lips. "What about the letter? Found anything interesting?" Eddy groaned.

"On the contrary. Nunez will be crushed."

Philip's smile died in a heartbeat. "What?"

"The plan it's not  _ bad _ , but it won't work. Blackworth is too smart to be tricked twice, and they will be much more prepared this time. Gods know who is standing in Fort Charlie right now. It will be impossible to win the Fort back this way."

"What will we do?" Philip muttered. Eddy heard the fear in his brother's voice and tried to ignore his own, pilling inside his chest since the previous day.

"We try to talk some sense into the Council," Eddy said, sensing Philip's disapproval without even looking at him. "I know, I know. Maybe it won't be any help, but, if the Council refuses to help the Army and they fail, no one can say that I didn't warn them."

"So you will just talk to them to prove that they are wrong? Will you let the soldiers die for a 'told you so?'" Philip's tone wasn't accusatory, just curious, and a little provoking.

Eddy gave his brother a dark smile. "You can't kill my soldiers on my watch." 

\---

Doyle's laugh filled the tall room, polished and sinister. The King didn't even move by his side, narrowing his reaction to a disinterested look at Eddy's general direction.

"You want to change the plan? Five days before the operation?" Doyle asked, sounding nothing but entertained - as if there weren't  _ actual lives in danger- _

'Focus, Eddy.' The price counted to ten in his head. 'Focus.' Then back. 'This is still your best to change the plan before it's too late.'

"Yes, Sir," he said. His voice sounded void even to his own ears, but he had learned the hard way that passion couldn't bring Doyle down. "Based on my experience on the border, I can tell that this plan is bound to fail. Many people and equipment will be lost needlessly."

"Your experience?" Doyle laughed. "Tell me, kid." Eddy gritted his teeth. The sir sure knew how to set fire to his nerves. "How much __ of this said  _ experience  _ do you have? Six years? Five?"

"Four, Sir. And you know it better than anyone." Eddy could feel all the eyes of the room on his skin.

As usual, the Council met at their high and pristine Assembly Room. Two rows of men sitting around a marble dais, where the King occupied his throne. Doyle sauntered around him as he spoke, making eye contact with various members of the meeting. Eddy could clearly see what Philip had talked about earlier. At least half of this room was sold to Doyle.

"And - correct me if I'm wrong, Your Highness - Officer Nunez has fought in this war for twenty years?"

"Twenty-two. He is our oldest soldier," the prince completed. 'And you know that too.'

Doyle gave one more of his resounding laughs, fixing his already impeccable pince-nez glasses on the top of his nose. "And you think you can predict the outcome of said Officer's plan. And  _ fix _ it?" This time, more of the men around the room laughed with him. Eddy felt his ears starting to burn.

"With all due respect, Sir Doyle," he said, making sure none of his rising frustration transpired in his words. "I made up this entire plan in the first place." Doyle's smile wavered for a little, a rare falter of his usual mask. The prince felt a hint of satisfaction on his chest. "I planned and executed it in December during the last Fort invasion - when, as you may know, Officer Nunez was hunting the Blackworth prince's special troops in the west. A mission he completed with utter success, if I may add." Eddy had designed that plan too. Only the prince himself had escaped from his trap. "That said, I think I'm qualified to warn you that now the circumstances are much different, and the plan will hardly work."

Doyle didn't wait to respond as soon as Eddy's words left his mouth, but the price could see the resolution that replaced his amused glance, and he wasn't laughing anymore.

"If you are here, Your Highness, I highly doubt your reading of these  _ circumstances _ . Nunez is on the field, and should clearly know what's happening better than some youngling spending some weeks in the country."

'One, two, three- Breath in-'

"If you will excuse me, gentlemen," a grave voice called. At Eddy's right, a man stood. 'Gabriel Smith,' he placed. He was one of the youngest in the Council, only about thirty years old. The wrinkles in his dark skin around his left eye were barely visible. The right eye was covered by a blue patch: one more record of the war. "Sir Doyle," his voice echoed in the stone walls. "If I may say so, His Royal Highness, Prince Chen, is one of the most experienced men in the Army at this moment. He has participated in over fifty mission in the past four years. He was - and still is - one of the minds behind every operation we've planned. Just the fact that he survived for so much time so near the enemy shows that he knows them well."

Smith let the end of the sentence rise to the skylight above them. All the eye's of the room were on him, aside from the King's, still staring at the chalice in his hand with badly masked boredom.

"Well, Mister Smith," Doyle smiled. "I'm sure we don't need to know the details of everything the prince has done in the past years."

Gabriel smirked. "I think you are rejecting some precious information, dismissing the prince's warnings, Sir Doyle. Surely, you don't want to receive a letter in five days, reporting the death of almost a third of our forces."

"Surely not," Doyle conceded, softly. Eddy felt a wave of gratitude towards Gabriel. The prince must have known that only a Council member could outspeak another one. Maybe Philip could too. Not for the first time that day, Eddy wished his brother could have been by his side. But this war was his problem, and therefore, his responsibility.

"It'll be my pleasure to send Officer Nunez a new plan by tomorrow morning," he announced. Doyle frowned at him from above his nose but, this time, he didn't try to contradict him. Eddy smiled, already thanking all the gods he could name for the resolved issue. "I'll make sure we use less material and fewer soldiers so that our other Forts-"

He was cut short by a yawn. "I don't believe that will be necessary, Edward." The vowels in his name were dragged by his father's groggy voice. Eddy stood still on his place as King Chen finally left his stupor with a gulp of wine and a bloodshot glare at him. "I have a much better solution, son." Another sip, and a questioning and amused look from Doyle. "It's clear that your actions have little effect here. Since you came back, the reports have been worsening, and old Blackworth is hitting us harder than he ever did in years." The King sighed as if saying such a long sentence was the most tiring thing he had done all day. It probably was, if his dishevelled clothes and sleepy eyes were any indications. "You don't bring any good to this Palace, did a better job in the border. You leave in three days."

\---

Three days.

Eddy barely registered his father leaving the Council room, ending the meeting, or Doyle's strangely overly satisfied smile. He just nodded to the words of support Gabriel Smith gave him in the hallway, and politely smiled at his wife - Juniper - who had joined them.

Three days.

His feet took him to the first place they thought about. The music room was silent when he entered, but it didn't take long for Kreisler's sweet notes to fill the air.

Three days.

He had three days in the safety of the Palace. He had three days to spend with Brett, and three days to get ready to say goodbye. He had three days before returning to the place where his nightmares took place.

Eddy shivered as he recalled the always present fog, the bone-chilling cold, the oppressive atmosphere of a zone at war, heavied with the threat of an imminent attack. 

He breathed in and out. He could do it. Eddy would make a good plan, the best he had ever done. One able to push away Blackworth forever. The twins would be by his side too, and Nunez, and Jackson, and all his comrades. The prince trusted them with his own life, and they did the same, every day, even when he was a day-long journey away from them.

Three days.

He enjoyed all the music he could, sitting so close to the gramophone that his ears ached. He let his heart pound with the music, one piece after the other. The sky turned black and then bright again. If the prince slept, he didn't recall it.

Three more days, and then he would be a man worthy of the title he held.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uff! This one was a hard one to write. Don't worry, we won't have much more politics for the next chapters, but some surprises await us, that's for sure.  
> Brett and Eddy will finally have a decent conversation and hopefully set everything right. I'm excited, not gonna lie.  
> I hope you are all doing great! My tests are almost over, but I still have to go through some more before I'm all yours.  
> Stay safe and take care, my lovely readers. See you next chapter!


	19. Apologies

When Brett got to the garden, a cold breeze ruffled his hair. The morning dew shone with the first rays of sunlight on top of the yellowing leaves waving above his head. Next to the lake, he saw Eddy. He sat on a stone bench covered in moss, wearing a green coat too thin for the weather.

"Hi," Brett called, making the prince turn to him. He felt his heart speeding up when he saw Eddy, frowning a little at his expression. Eddy looked terrible, with dark circles under his puffy eyes and his arms curled around himself.

"Hi." Eddy's voice was hoarse, but a small smile curled his lips when he saw Brett. He sat by Eddy's side, glancing at the water, so clear that he could see the fish nibbling at the surface. Brett felt the other shuffling by his side, getting closer. He did the same, letting Eddy's shoulders find support in his.

"Eddy? Is everything okay?" he murmured. He couldn't keep the concerned tone from his voice. He didn't expect to leave his room and find an Eddy more wrecked than him.

The prince closed his eyes, sighing. "I don't wanna talk about it." His voice cracked.

Brett felt his heart fall to his stomach. This was  _ bad _ . He doubted he could even  _ imagine _ something that would make Eddy feel that shaken.

He also didn't know what to say to comfort him, so he just turned his palm upwards, and nudged Eddy's arm until he slid his cold hand into his. Brett carefully squeezed his fingers, trying to convey the words of support he couldn't say. Eddy held tightly to his hand, clamping it to his chest, his eyes pressed shut. Brett's heart broke in a million pieces when a single tear rolled down Eddy's cheek, and he quickly scooped it up with his finger.

"Hey, Eddy. It's okay. It's okay."

The prince just nodded, even if his shoulders shook against Brett's, and more tears fell. Brett squeezed his hand a little tighter and drew comforting circles on Eddy's back with the other until his hiccups soothed.

"You okay?" Brett asked, softly as if he was trying not to break the peace in the garden.

"Yeah, I'll be. Thanks," Eddy murmured back. Brett shook his head, a small smile threatening to show on his lips. Then he remembered what he came to say to Eddy.

"Eddy," he urged. The prince tilted his head to the side, puzzled. "I'm sorry about the other day. For being scared of you. I was confused, and not thinking right, and it was stupid."

Eddy's eyes widened in surprise at his words. Then he was clutching Brett's hand again and shaking his head. 

"You have nothing to be sorry for," he guaranteed. "I should be the one apologizing for making you feel like I could hurt you."

Now it was Brett who shook his head, the glint in his eyes almost offended. "I know you wouldn't," he said, sure. "It's not your fault that I always react like that."

"It's not yours either," Eddy grimaced. Brett saw him debating something in his head before speaking. "Can I ask you a question?" It was new, he being the one questioning Brett.

"Go ahead," Brett encouraged with a smile. Eddy gulped.

"Why did you do that?" he mustered. "In the North Wing, I mean- Why did you defend me against Doyle?"

Brett shrugged, and he felt his cheeks turning a soft tone of pink that Eddy associated with the cold. "I saw that Doyle was getting on your nerves. You yelled, and..." Images of an angry Eddy resurged in his mind, and he shivered. "Seeing you like that, it scared me. More than that-  _ fool _ ever could."

The prince's brows tensed with guilt. "Thank you," he said, giving Brett the biggest smile he could. "For standing up for me. It was pretty impressive. I was flattered to have you by my side."

'By his side,' Brett thought. His chest felt warm at the words. How could have he taken so much time to understand that this was all he wanted? All he needed? To be by Eddy's side?

"Brett," the prince interrupted his train of thought, his voice strangled again. He gripped Brett's other hand in his, so he could clutch both to his chest. Brett's eyes widened.

He had a bad feeling about this.

And then...

"I'm going back."

\---

What-

Wait, wait. 

_ What? _

Brett stood up so fast that Eddy almost dropped his hands. "Back? Like, back- back  _ there _ ? To the border?" He waited frozen in his tracks, hoping he understood it wrong, that this wasn't in fact happening. Eddy lightly nodded, and Brett felt dizzy, a million questions in his head merging into a giant typhoon of fear, confusion and anger.

Eddy was returning to the war.

Eddy would go to the place where men went to die, and maybe not come back.

Just those thoughts made Brett want to throw up.

But he couldn't think about that. He had to believe in Eddy. Believe that the prince would be okay. And, for now, he needed to be here for him. He looked to Eddy again, finding his sweet, sweet eyes filled with sadness and fear. "When?" Brett mustered.

"In three days, including today."

Brett's head blanked.

Three days.

Already counting.

And then Eddy would be far away - away from everyone, away from Brett, where not even the King could help him.

He forced himself to breathe. Panicking wouldn't help anyone now. They both just needed to clean their heads, and talk about this, and maybe things would clear up, and not feel as scary as they certainly did now.

He pulled Eddy to his feet. "Come. Let's take a walk, yeah?" he suggested, wiping Eddy's tears away. 

The prince leaned on his fingers for a little, his eyes calming down a little. "Yeah, okay," he murmured once Brett dropped his hand.

They walked past the lake to the paths between the flower beds, full with the last flowers of the season. The air was starting to warm up around them with the rising sun, and gravel snapped under their feet. It would be peaceful - if Brett could stop feeling Eddy's imminent farewell above their heads.

But the man, thank gods, had a talent for solving Brett's uneasiness. Eddy dropped Brett's hand for a moment, only to catch it again, intertwining their fingers, so he could pull Brett a little closer. Always slow, though, making sure Brett could back off at any time.

"I never showed you the maze did I?" he asked, even they both knew the answer. "Come on."

Brett was pulled into the giant puzzle that took over the garden, hedges towering over him, green and yellow, with little climbing flowers within them.

They ran around until he was dizzy and panting, but a smile had taken over his lips, the heavy atmosphere gone. Eddy lured him to the other exit of the maze, a wink as he said: "Told you I never get lost in here." And Brett just grinned like an idiot. None of them let go of the other's hand, even when they became clammy and hot.

Then the prince showed him the greenhouses, where the gardeners approached them, some with a wave and a call, others with a rough nod. Eddy greeted them all by name, a genuine smile on his face. Then he showed Brett all the plants and trees around, the colours, the flavours and the textures. The humid air filled Brett's breaths and damped Eddy's eyelashes, surrounding them in the sweet smell of earth and plants. The prince showed him Dove Kingdom's present to them when Belle got married, a line of flowering Franklin trees, and led him to the very end of the gardens.

"Here are the stables," he announced, pointing to the long and low building, from where the rustling of grass and grumbling of horses could be heard. "There's the manege, where we train the horses. Hi, Lily, Aslan!" Two kids with matching freckles and muddy boots smiled back at them from the fences, where they carried bales of hay. "Ever road a horse?" Eddy asked.

"Yeah. Used to when I was little," Brett smiled. He loved to mount his mother's horse, to gallop until his legs were sore every time he visited the country. But it had been a while since his mother- well...

Eddy tugged his hand again, making every undesired thought leave his head. They entered the stables, every stall occupied with strong and tall animals. Brett stole some surprised glances at them, admiring the shiny hair and prideful stances. The prince led him to the very last one, finally letting go of his fingers to open the stall door. Behind it, a pitch-black haired horse stood, contently chewing his fodder.

"This is Ebony," Eddy introduced, and Brett was surprised by the sweet tone his voice took. "Don't be intimidated with the name. He couldn't hurt a fly, even if he tried. Could you, boy?" The prince's hand patted Ebony's neck, and the horse playfully pushed against him, not even looking up from his food. "No you couldn't, let's be honest here." Ebony shook his head, neighing. 

Then, he turned to Brett. The look on Eddy's face, filled with sadness and longing, made his heart stutter a bit. He stumbled forward, grabbing the prince's hands again. "Eddy," he murmured.

"Brett," Eddy whispered back. "What if I don't return? What if the war takes me too? What-" his voice broke, in the verge of tears yet again. But Brett couldn't speak, he couldn't move. "What if I never see you again? Knowing that, how- How can I leave you?"

Brett shook his head, trying to keep his own tears from falling. "Eddy," he called fiercely. "Look at me." The prince did, and Brett could feel his resolve shattering before Eddy's eyes, but he held himself the best that he could. Eddy needed this encouragement. He needed to be strong, and so did Brett with him. "I'll stay by your side. I promise. I want to. Let me stand with you. It doesn't have to be forever, it doesn't mean that I will stop you or drag you back. Just- know that for every step you take, or everything you decide, I will trust you and I will support you. Even if I'm not there, even if I'm just inside your head. Trust me, Eddy, and let me be your friend." Brett took a breath and pressed Eddy's hands against his chest. "Let me stay by your side."

Eddy looked flabbergasted at him, gaping. Brett felt his cheeks firing up. 'What the  _ hell  _ did I just say?'

But then, the prince beamed, toothy and wholeheartedly and magnificent. "Would that make you happy?" he asked. Brett had never seen him babble before.

"Yes!" He didn't need to think twice, didn't need to think at all. "Would that make  _ you _ happy?"

"Yes," Eddy beamed, and Brett could breathe again. Because Eddy may be leaving in some mere days; because he might never come back: because Brett could be left alone all over again.

But, right here and right now, he had Eddy, and Eddy had Brett, and he was holding him, as close as he dared. And the sun and stars were shining, the world spun, and everything was alright because he could stay by his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas, my lovely readers!  
> If there is a chapter with a title more suited to the notes as this one, I don't know it. Unfortunately, school decided they weren't pushing us enough, as if, and my job also decided it was time to give me extra shifts, so...  
> Well, I was kinda forced into this hiatus.  
> I still don't know if I'll be able to write as much as I want for now, but I couldn't let Christmas pass without sharing a new chapter with you. Here you are, I hope you liked it.  
> This is the chapter where things start getting- wild. Things are about to get down. The amount of danger and angst from now on will go through the roof. There's political drama, there's war, there're nightmares turned real and scythed men going after everyone. And above all, there's a ton lot of Breddy.  
> So buckle up, my lovely readers, and let me take you into this tale of love, war and a lot of rainbows.  
> See you next chapter!


	20. Talking

Holding Brett's hands was like talking, but without the words: the easiest way to understand what he was thinking or feeling.

Eddy considered himself an empathic person. He was good at reading the room; he could feel when his soldiers were scared or determined; when the situation asked for a speech or alcohol; when the Council wasn't willing to listen despite how much he screamed. But he couldn't quite read Brett yet.

Apart from his rare - but breathtaking - smiles, Brett's expression was always neutral. It was even worse when he felt uncomfortable or scared. On the day he talked with Doyle, he had the most impressing deadpan face Eddy had ever witnessed.

However, when they were by themselves, the prince could make up the slight furrow of his lips when he was confused, or the way his eyes shone in excitement, or how he relaxed at the sound of a violin.

It was much simpler when he took Brett's hand, though. They tensed, clasped and shyly handled his without much restrain. Eddy didn't even have to look at him to know that Brett felt sad, or thankful, or worried, happy, or scared.

An 'are you okay?' in a squeeze. A 'don't worry' in the circles they drew on the back of their palms. A 'stay here' when they pulled the other's fingers towards them.

All of those little movements made Eddy's heart slam against his ribs in happiness every time, and a smile threatened to take over his face. So it was easy to understand how madly his blood rushed with Brett so close to him, grabbing his hands and holding them close to his chest, where his heart beat as wildly as the prince's. And it should be even more natural to accept how lightheaded he felt as Brett spoke to him, his eyes shining with the light entering the stable through its small windows.

Eddy saw the time pass in slow motion while Brett talked, his voice reverberating in Eddy's bones.

"Let me stay by your side."

Eddy let the phrase echo in his mind, every time sweeter and more real than the last.

\---

Yes. Of course. Yes, yes, yes! How could he ever say otherwise to those dark soft eyes and heartfelt smile? Even if he knew what it costed, what took to stand by the prince's side-

But Eddy wouldn't put Brett in danger. He wouldn't take him  _ there _ . However, while they were safe, inside the borders of Thoele, there was nothing Eddy wanted more, and if Brett did too-

"Would that make  _ you _ happy?"

Eddy watched Brett's face lighting up and, without a second of hesitation, almost screaming: "Yes!" and clutching Eddy's sleeves, holding him almost close enough for an embrace. He couldn't look away from the other's smile because Brett was grinning as if he had just won the Kingdom Treasure, and Eddy's head had very helpfully screamed 'cute, cute, CUTE!' as his cheeks took the colour of the falling leaves outside.

All too soon, the sound of the stable door opening pulled them apart. The siblings in charge of feeding the horses greeted them again with two twin freckled smiles. Eddy smiled back at them before tugging Brett's jacket and leading them back outside. They walked back to the lake in comfortable silence. At some point, Brett intertwined their fingers again, and Eddy could feel the happiness buzzing in the other. He beamed at that, at the same time that his stomach decided to grumble.

Brett shot him a startled look before they both cracked up laughing, all the joy catching up with them. As Brett clutched to his belly, his nose scrunched up in such adorable manner it should be illegal, Eddy found himself wishing he could hug him. Just have him closer. Maybe forever. Maybe kiss his stupidly cute nose too. And his dainty red cheeks. And his smile.

'Oh shoot,' he thought between laughs. 'I'm in love, ain't I?'

\---

They ran back to the kitchens, hand in hand, twin smiles on their faces. Sophie welcomed them in with a wink, and in no time, Eddy found himself on the end of the long table in the kitchen. The food that the maid brought didn't last, but the stain of jelly in Eddy's jacket surely would. The prince could already imagine Nico's face when he saw the state his clothes were in, but it was worth it for Brett's smile.

"How are you feeling?" the man asked. He still had the phantom of a smile on his face, but his eyes were serious, and his voice sweet. "About the border and everything?"

Eddy shrugged melancholy, staring at his hand. Brett had laced their fingers, either turning Eddy's palm up, tracing the faint blue veins on his wrists, or down, to rub circles into the back of his hand. The prince let the feeling sink in, savouring the warmth and security in Brett's hold. Truthfully, all the giddiness and messing around with the other had calmed him down, and, with Brett by his side, his heart didn't jump quite as terrible when he thought about the war waiting for him.

"'M feeling better." Brett smiled softy, quickly averting his eyes when Eddy smiled back. He had bread crumbs on the corners of his mouth, where his napkin had failed to clean them, and Eddy thoughtlessly raised his hand to brush them off. 

But, before he could, Brett's face scrunched up, and he winced, pulling out his hands and getting away from Eddy's reach.

For a moment, it felt like they were in the garden again: Brett's face almost green after he confronted Doyle. And Eddy, confused and scared.

The prince froze, afraid of making Brett so frightened that he fleeted for good. However, instead of backing away, Brett stayed where he was, seeming surprised by his own reaction.

"Oh gods," he muttered. "I'm sorry, Eddy, I'm so sorry-"

His eyes became panicked, and his breath startled. Eddy felt his own heart sinking in his stomach. "No, no, Brett, come on," the prince whispered back. He wasn't sure if it would be good to touch Brett at that moment, so he made sure to keep his hands for himself. "Hey, Brett," he murmured, making his best to sound as less threatening as possible. Fortunately, Brett looked up at his call. "Don't worry about it. Are you feeling alright?"

"Yeah, I'm okay." Brett sighed, pushing his bangs back with shaky hands. "I'm sorry. No-" He cut Eddy when he tried to complain. "No, really, let me talk." Eddy gulped and nodded, dropping his chin on top of his crossed arms, listening. "It's just- It's been a long time since I had someone who touched-  _ me _ \- without meaning- you know..."

'To hurt you?' Eddy thought, internally grimacing at the thought.

"After my mom died, things back home became  _ different _ . I guess that, at first, I didn't notice, then I got used to it, and-" Brett stopped, his voice strangled in his throat. Eddy offered him his water cup and pretended that his heart didn't break when Brett gulped it down, wiping his tears in the black sleeves of his jacket. "What matters is," Brett sounded almost angry - at himself and at his family too. "I'm not in that house anymore. And even if I can't stay in the Palace after you go away, I will not go back there. I'll find a job, maybe travel to Othela. I'm definitely not going back." He picked up Eddy's hand, and slowly but surely, guided the prince's fingers to cup his cheek. "And don't want to be afraid anymore."

Eddy's chin was probably on the floor at that moment, but the prince was too amazed to notice. Brett's cheek was soft - almost puffy - and warm under his hand. Carefully, oh so carefully, he allowed his thumb to brush his skin, and it immediately reddened up. On his wrist, Brett's hand tightened its grip, making Eddy stay.

The prince caught the other's eyes, and, for a moment, he let himself revel in the security and sweetness in them. Then, Eddy wiggled his eyebrows, and Brett snickered at him.

"Is this okay?" the prince asked.

"Yes, it's nice," Brett assured. "You?"

Eddy nodded. "Pretty amazing." He smiled at Brett's embarrassed stare before dropping his gaze.

"You know," Eddy started. the years in the border were- though." 

'It's only fair,' he thought. 'That I get to tell something to Brett too.'

"We thought- I thought that the Academy would be the worse I would have to live through." He smiled bitterly, trying to focus on the other's fingers on his hand instead of in the sting in his heart. "All that training and studying, I thought they would be the hard part, and that the war was just another test, another assignment we needed to complete." The tears fought to make themselves seen, and his voice became hoarse. "Half of my classmates didn't make it past the first week. My- best friend and I- We were supposed to be the best, fresh from school, top of our class, but he also- He also-" He gulped, and now it was his turn to take some water. "I just survived because my title of prince earned me a place among the best warriors of the time." And then he had survived because he had learned to be ruthless and cold, everything Eddy swore he would not become. Everything his father was. "And over the years I realized how  _ pointless  _ all that was. And I promised to my comrades and my friends that I would end it. But my plans were never enough, and so many died, Brett,  _ so many _ ." Tears ran down his face unobstructed, past his jaw. He felt Brett's hand on top of his head, comforting and kind, and his feet tapping his under the table. Eddy willed his breath to slow down and his tears to stop, and just then he kept going, feeling like a weight was slowly lifting off his shoulders. "I always remember them. They are the reason I want the war to end, and why I came here, to try and fix it. To repay them in some way, because I wasn't able to protect them back then." He lifted his eyes, and, through the wet lenses of his glasses, he saw Brett smiling sadly.

"I think you're doing a great job," he confessed. "And maybe you'll not save everyone, but you're doing so much to defend your people. And now you are even going back to save us again. So you should be proud."

And Eddy cried. Bitter and desperate, Brett's hand in his own. And the pain pricked in his chest, but, for the first time in years, relief did too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there, lovely readers. Don't see what day it is, I know it's been a hot while. However, I will not bore you with descriptions of endless assignments and the stress of quarantine, and wow, this part of the story took its toll. We're already on chapter 20! Buckle up, trouble is about to come.  
> I hope you're all doing good, and staying safe. Have a million thank you's. Without you, I wouldn't have gone through the past weeks, and for that, I'm truly grateful.   
> Stay amazing, and see you next chapter <3 (hopefully very soon)  
> Yours and only,  
> CommaAngel


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